Love Letters Straight From Your Heart
by jollybelucky
Summary: AU: Camille Pope was born after Olivia had a drunken one-night stand with Fitz. A freak accident has left Olivia fighting for her life and Camille will come face to face with her father for the first time! Angst-ridden drama. Disclaimer: This is a work of Fan Fiction using characters from the 'Scandal' world, which is trademarked by Shonda Rhimes and The Walt Disney/ABC Company.
1. Prologue

******_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'. _**

* * *

**Love Letters Straight From Your Heart**

**Prologue**

**Washington DC**

**January 1999**

_Strangers in the night exchanges glances_

_Wond'ring in the night what were the chances_

_We'd be sharing love before the night was through_

_Something in your eyes was so inviting_

_Something in you smile was so exciting_

_Something in my heart told me I must have you_

_Strangers in the night_

_Two lonely people, we were strangers in the night_

_Up to the moment when we said our first hello little did we know_

_Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away_

_Strangers in the night_ – Frank Sinatra

Olivia flicked one eye open when she heard her cell phone playfully buzz to alert her to a text message. She knew it was Edison and let out a soft groan and sunk her head into the pillow. She felt wonderfully comfortable, but it was time to get up and back to reality. Wondering what the time was she carefully turned her head, and judging from the dusky tone that fell across the room, she guessed it was early morning. At that precise moment she heard the body next to hers stir and the soft rustling of sheets. A large warm hand began gently caressing her lower back and she smiled, as pleasurable tingling sensations spread from her spine, and permeated throughout her body.

Fitz shifted over to her and curled his hand around her slender waist, moving up towards her breasts and began kissing the back of her neck. Instinctively, she dipped her head so she could expose more skin to his sweet kisses. He moaned as he felt her winding her hips into his lower body and started to pull her round to face him; but was caught off guard when she pushed her shoulders back and away from him. So he tightened his hold and pulled her back closer to him. Lowering his head, his lips brushed against her skin.

"Where are you going?" he whispered in her ear.

She dreamily closed her eyes, tingling at the sound of his deep husky voice.

"I've got to go," she replied breathlessly.

His grip slackened and she took this as an opportunity to push the covers back and swing her body out of bed. He flung himself back against the bed head watching her.

"The boyfriend?" he asked.

"Fiancé," she corrected him.

As she stood up, she blinked a few times, as her eyes were still adjusting to being awake. She began searching for her undergarments and black Lycra dress, which she discovered at the bottom of the bed and bent down to retrieve her clothing. As Olivia returned to her standing position, she heard him take a deep breath, and she smiled, knowing he was admiring her physique. Olivia was a petit but curvaceous woman and was rightly proud of her body that she had honed through years of competitive swimming at high school and college. She got a buzz from him watching her every move; and felt none of the gritty embarrassment after the euphoric excitement of hooking up with a stranger for a one-night stand. In fact she felt so at ease, she happily turned her back to him and walked into the en suite bathroom, aware his eyes were fixed on her butt.

She re-emerged wearing her figure-hugging dress to find him still resting his bare upper body against the bed head. He had one arm behind his head and the other splayed across his hard chest. He greeted her with a long seductive smile that reached his bright blue eyes, which were twinkling in the morning haze. Olivia's breath caught in her throat.

He was just too fine for words, she thought. And her earlier primal lust for him returned with a vengeance. With more confidence than she actually felt, she walked over and sat down next to him.

"Hi," he said softly. She let out a soft sigh and flashed him a warm smile.

"Hi."

"You okay?"

She nodded, looking down and smoothing away invisible creases from her dress.

"Look, I don't care how cliché this sounds, but you need to know that I don't make a habit of getting drunk, and hooking up with random men – especially not at my former professor's birthday party."

"Aah, Cyrus…"

"Yes, Cyrus, I don't think I even said goodbye," she said, cringing from her lack of manners.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. From what I _do_ remember, he was too inebriated and involved with his new boyfriend to notice we went AWOL."

They both chuckled as they cast their minds back to an intoxicated Olivia, lying on her back in her former professor, Cyrus Beane's conservatory, surrounded by his prize rhododendrons flowers, which she had mischievously plucked out randomly - just for the hell of it.

"So what about your fiancé?" he asked in a nonchalant tone.

"He's probably freaking out that he can't get me hold of me, so I should go call him, and put him out of his misery."

"I think tonight was a break from the norm, for the both of us," he said, playing with the simple gold band on his left hand.

"Are you saying you've never cheated on your wife before?"

He shook his head, and she saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

"Like you, believe it or not, this is the first time for me. It never occurred to me to cheat. I figure you get married and you make the best of it - good or bad."

"It can't be so bad…last night you talked about your two children…that's something to feel blessed about."

"Yes, Karen and Gerry are my world."

"'_Ah! What would the world be to us if the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us worse than the dark before_'."

"Who offered that amazing insight?"

"My father, but before him the nineteenth century US poet, Henry Longfellow," she joked kindly.

"That's beautiful…I must remember it during challenging times."

"And remember this too…I don't know you, but I trust my gut, and my gut tells me you're one of the good guys. You'll always do the right thing by the people you love. "

"You got all that from meeting me last night?"

"Yes. Am I wrong?" she asked directly, and he laughed at her boldness.

"You're an amazing woman. If I was your fiancé, I'd never let you out of my sight"

She smirked at him.

"That's because you're only seeing the PR version of me."

He chuckled at her.

"And funny too… is there no end to your talents?"

"I make a mean pumpkin pie," she quipped back, with a cheeky wink.

"I guess, I'll never know," he sighed gently.

They both paused over his last comment, digesting that fact last night was a strictly one-off event - never to be repeated. It was a sobering split second.

"If I was so amazing," Olivia began, "I would be with my fiancé instead of here - with you. He's this incredibly sweet guy, but over the last few months our relationship has begun to feel like a battleground and we're rowing over the most ridiculous things. I keep wondering if I'm making this huge mistake, but everyone keeps on telling me how great he is, and _he is_," she insisted.

"But everyone's not marrying him," he warned gently. "I mistook a good family name and a great pair of legs for love," he continued wryly.

"You make it sound like you have an arranged marriage."

"Pretty much," he confirmed

"Damn! That sounds…"

"Prehistoric?"

"Little bit."

"What can I say? I'm new money she's blue money…that's how it works in my world."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing…I'm coming off like some pathetic loser, moaning about his marriage to a beautiful woman, in the hope you'll feel a little sorry for me."

"Don't beat yourself up too much…I think it's safe to say, _we both_ went a little off track last night."

"I guess we did," he said, looking at her beneath lowered eyes.

God you are too sexy, thought Olivia and she blushed.

"Mmm…" she murmured shyly, but quickly refocused on making her exit. "Seriously, though, I need to make a move."

"How will you get back?"

"I'll call a taxi."

"I should really do the gentlemanly thing and take you back to your hotel."

"No - no you're fine," she replied, half shocked, half horrified, at his suggestion. "I don't think me turning up in the early hours of the morning with the soon-to-be elected State Governor of California would be a good look."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You know who I am?"

"I majored with a first in law and political science, Cyrus would have a heart attack if I didn't recognize the man he hopes to take all the way to the White House."

"So are you as good as Cyrus says you are, Ms Pope?" he asked her seductively.

Now it was her turn to be surprise because they had only exchanged first names; and talked in drunken generalities.

"Yes, Cyrus has been ranting to me all weekend about the brilliant Olivia Pope, who works for one of the biggest law firms in the country. Apparently, you're the best student he's ever taught. I thought it was me," he shrugged his shoulders. "But wotcha gonna do - eh?"

"Okay, seeing as we're no longer playing 'mysterious strangers'" she joked. "Can we at least agree to keep this between us? You know: what happens at Cyrus' party stays at Cyrus' party?"

He placed his finger on his lips to confirm his compliance with her request

"Okay, good," she said briskly, getting up. "Well, it was great to meet you, and thanks for…an interesting night."

"What? No kiss goodbye," he said in a mocked hurtful tone.

Olivia wanted to avoid this moment because she didn't trust herself. She was far too attracted to this man for her own good and desperately wanted to stay and continue enjoying his company.

She carefully sat back down, albeit closer to him, and rolled her head towards him, so they were staring into each other's eyes. She became conscious of her quickening breath and swallowed hard. Bracing herself against the magnetic heat pulsating between them, she barely had control as she leaned in to lay a friendly kiss on his cheek. But he quickly turned his head and their lips meshed. His arms encircled her shoulders pulling her closer to him and she melted. His hand crept around her neck and he pushed her mouth apart with his tongue kissing her deeply. Olivia's response was just as intense: her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in and letting her fingers play with the wavy hair at the nape of his neck. Reluctantly they broke away from each other but their foreheads closed in together to touch. With their lips barely apart they could feel each other's rapid breathing.

Fitz inhaled deeply and began slowly tracing her skin with the tip of his nose, moving across her cheek and down towards her neck. Olivia arched back and his lips found the centre of her throat. She gasped when the tip of his tongue licked the dip in the centre of her collarbone; followed by the lightest of kisses that sent her pulse into a beating frenzy.

"Umm, you taste and smell delicious….I don't want you to go," he rasped against her neck.

"I've got to go," she moaned huskily.

He shook his head and began rubbing his thumb along the inside of her dress strap. She raised her hand and ran her fingertips across his lips and moved in to brush her lips against his. As he moaned, she took his bottom lip between her teeth and lips gently nibbling and sucking the soft flesh of his lower mouth, all the while teasing him with her tongue. When she finally pulled away and gazed at him, Fitz's eyes were fluttering and his breathing was coming in short hard bolts from the back of his throat.

"Just one minute," he whispered, pulling her back under the covers.

_**California**_

_**(1 month later)**_

_I'd be safe and warm_

_(I'd be safe and warm)_

_If I was in LA_

_(If I was in LA)_

_California dreamin'_

_(California dreamin')_

_On such a winter's day_

_California Dreamin'_ - The Mamas & Papas

It was Saturday morning and Fitz was fast asleep next to his wife, Mellie, in their queen-size bed. Mellie was awake and had been for a while now, due to her husband's constant restlessness - which had been affecting her sleep for the past few weeks. Suddenly she felt Fitz shift over to her side of the bed and could feel his alternating breathing pattern against the back of her neck. He was still asleep. She heard him groan softly in the back of his throat and felt his morning erection in the small of her back. She smiled. Just then his strong taut body pressed against hers, and his hips rocked forward as his hardness became more determined. He let out another moan and pulled away to lie on his back, but a loose arm was still touching her. She turned over and slipped into his open arms.

"Someone's feeling good this morning," she whispered, gently caressing his chest, and slipping her hand under the covers.

Fitz's body jerked and he gasped. His eyes shot wide open as though he'd heard a shrilling alarm call. It took him a moment to focus before looking down and seeing his wife seductively kissing his chest whilst pulling up his Navy t-shirt.

Shit, thought Fitz.

"Mellie..." he said, clearing his throat.

"Yes Fitzy," she purred back. He winced, because he hated it when she called him that.

"I need the bathroom," he mumbled.

Moments later Fitz was climbing out of his t-shirt and boxers and stepping into the shower. He turned the taps on full blast: setting the temperature at the hottest he was able to bear. Placing both arms either side of the shower he bent his neck so the faucet could run directly over his head. He closed his eyes and began to think about the expression on Mellie's face when he literally jumped out of bed. Then he thought about the reason why: he'd been dreaming about Olivia Pope. He just could not stop thinking about the fiercely intelligent and blazing hot beauty that had exploded into his life - and it was driving him crazy.

He thought about the dream he'd been having about her. She was naked astride him and smiling seductively, she begins gyrating her body in a circular motion over his hard-on moving her hips, waist and hands in the same rhythmical movement until she's performing a teasing belly dance. Fitz is completely mesmerized by her erotic display. He takes hold of her waist and in one swift move thrusts his hard-on deep inside her.

Fitz shuddered with pleasure at the memory and sighed deeply, trying to ignore his re-erection, but her sexy naked image kept invading his thoughts. Now all he could think about was her being here with him naked in the shower and staring up at him with those beautiful dark brown eyes that seem to read his every emotion. He imagined beads of hot water spraying across her angelic face and dripping from her full blush-looking lips; cascading down onto her shoulders and pert breasts, across her smooth honed abs and perfect v-shaped bush.

Pressing his left palm flat against the shower wall he took his right hand and placing it round his throbbing member he became lost in his own personal pleasure.

Minutes later Fitz spun around and slammed his breathless body against the shower wall. Lifting his head, he once again, allowed the jutting water to pound against his skull as though his was trying to knock some sense into his head. Christ, what was wrong with him? In the adjoining room, lay his beautiful wife eager to make love. But for some reason he'd chosen to be alone and jerk off over some strange woman he'd met once. He felt his face become flush with shame and remorse. He took a deep sharp breath and shook his head like he was shaking off his last guilty pleasure. Taking hold of one of the many liquid-filled bottles arranged on the shower wall he began soaping his hair and body.

This morning was not the first time he'd woken up from dreaming about Olivia Pope and it frustrated him because he knew she would be on his mind all day. Thinking about her made him feel like a teenage boy who'd just discovered his father's _Playboy_ collection, and at that point he imagined she was a _Playboy_ centerfold. Oh my God, thought Fitz, this is seriously getting out of control. He had to stop this daydreaming malarkey. Olivia Pope was a refreshing distraction from the pressures of fulfilling his political destiny. His mind should be fully focused on becoming state governor, and proving to everyone – especially is overbearing father – that he could repeat his army success in the political arena. He needed to forget about Olivia Pope and give his full attention to the important things in his life: his wife and children. Period.

Rinsing off the last soapy suds he carefully dripped across the bathroom floor, and opened a wooden slate cupboard door and picked out two clean towels. Wrapping one around his waist, he used the other to dry his hair, and made his way back to the bedroom. He saw Mellie still lying in bed and resting on her side. She was staring straight ahead and didn't move - as though she was unaware he'd re-entered the room. Fitz sheepishly walked over to her and bent down to drop a morning kiss on her cheek. But she frowned and pulled away from him. Fitz took a deep breath and could feel the red glow of embarrassment creep up from his neck and across his face.

"Feeling better after your shower?" Mellie queried, in an icy tone.

Fitz returned to his standing position and walked over to a large oak Chester draw and selected a white t-shirt and sweatpants.

How do you answer a loaded question like that? Fitz thought.

"Is it so bad being married to me?"

"No, Mellie," he sighed, slipping the t-shirt over his damp hair.

"Then why? Why do you hurt me like this?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just under a lot of pressure what with next year's election and my father's constant interference and ego-tripping," he explained unconvincingly. Suddenly Fitz flashed a bright smile at his wife. "I was thinking, maybe we could make a surprise breakfast together for the kids? I think they'd like that." He'd finished dressing and was making his way back to Mellie with the same smile on his face.

"It's the weekend, Fitzgerald, that's what the nanny's for," she retorted sharply.

"But still, I think I'll treat Karen and Gerry. You know how much they love my pancakes," he said, enthusiastically, in an attempt to lighten the frosty atmosphere. Mellie ignored him.

He could feel an argument brewing between them, so he quickly excused himself and headed towards the two people he most loved in the world.

_**New York**_

_Baby I'm from New York!_

_Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,_

_There's nothing you can't do_

_Now you're in New York_

_These streets will make you feel brand new,_

_Big lights will inspire you,_

_Hear it for New York!_

_(New York, New York, New York)_

_New York – _Alicia Keys

On that same day thousands of miles away, Olivia Pope was seated in her glass-walled office at Carlton Price & Associates - one of the biggest law firms in New York. Being Saturday, the twenty-third floor of The Stellar Point Building was quiet except for a few colleagues and one security guard milling around. Olivia was pouring over a couple of witness statements and law books documenting product liability cases. She was taking down notes, when she felt a wave of nausea rumble through her stomach. She swallowed uncomfortably.

"Olivia Pope, do you have an off button? It's the weekend for heaven sakes."

She stopped writing in mid-sentence, and looked up to see one of the senior partners, Andrew Price, smiling at her.

"And I take it you're here for the good of your health?" she joked back.

"I guess when you're trying to save your client two million dollars, you do what you have to do," he replied lightly, but there was a serious look in his eyes. "I'm going to grab a coffee from the kitchenette. I think there are some muffins left over from yesterday - if you can bear it."

Olivia inwardly winced as her stomach churned at the thought of eating food.

"I'm good, thank you," she replied, smiling brightly.

But as soon as he left, her mask dropped, and Olivia sunk back into her leather chair as another wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Suddenly her stomach made a rumbling churning noise and she started to heave.

Please not now. Please not now, she begged herself. The queasy sickness rumbled through her again and was building in the back of her throat. She was going to be sick. She bolted up and ran out into the hallway, breaking into a half walk, half run, towards the ladies washroom at the end of the hall, with one hand partially covering her mouth. Swinging the door open, she rushed towards an open cubicle door and snapping up the lid she proceeded to be sick until her stomach was empty. She kept her head hanging and she groaned as her stomach churned again. Three, two, one, she counted, and retched. But nothing came up. Just that empty acidic feeling. Wearily, she pulled tissue from the dispenser and she wiped her mouth. Still swaying from the sickness, Olivia backed into the cubicle wall, and bending her legs slid down the wall and flopped her head between her knees.

Her head shot up when she heard the creaking bathroom door open.

"Liv?" someone called out and she closed her eyes with relief. She'd never been so pleased to hear a British accent in her whole life. It was her colleague and close friend, Stephen Finch, calling out to her.

"Hey Stephen," she called back weakly. "What are you doing here?" she asked, staggering to her feet.

"I had to collect case papers for Monday, and I saw you rushing in here with a face like death. Are you okay?" Stephen asked, concerned.

Suddenly the cubicle door swung open and his face fell when he saw a pale-looking Olivia starring back at him.

"Liv… what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, watching her walk to the basin and splash cold water over her face. She looked up in the mirror and caught Stephen's eye.

"Can you meet me at our place in twenty minutes?"

Stephen looked at his watch.

"Sure, but it'll have to be a quick one because I've got an appointment for a suit-fitting over on the Upper East Side at two."

"That's fine. I'll make it quick - promise."

Half an hour later, Olivia and Stephen were sitting in a wrinkled leather-seated booth sat opposite each other in their favorite café; and thanking the young blonde waitress for their drinks. The place was buzzing with the usual weekend trade that included a mixture of young families, couples and groups of friends taking a break from the blistering January winds outside. The radio was on in the background and Olivia could hear the popular R'n'B singer, Brandy's latest hit song, _Have You Ever? _playing at a low volume. She absent-mindedly watched as their waitress approached another table and began playing with the string from her herbal tea. Stephen was stirring two sugars into his usual Americano before turning his attention to his friend.

"Are you okay Liv? You look shattered. Is it Edison?"

"No I haven't heard from him for a couple of days now."

"Do you think he's got the message?"

"He's got the ring back; I can't make it any clearer."

"So what's going on?"

"Okay, so what I'm about to tell you, please, don't judge me?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow.

"Come on. This is me you're talking to."

"Right, well as you know, at the beginning of the New Year, Edison and I were supposed to fly to Washington together, to see my old college professor, who was celebrating his birthday. But on the morning we were due to leave, we had a massive fight, and he walked out of the apartment, so I ended up flying to DC by myself. I still went to Cyrus' party, but I wasn't in the mood to play social butterfly; and got hammered on vodka shots. Anyway, before you know it, I was laid out flat on my back."

"You're a lightweight when it comes to spirits - why would you do that?"

"You heard the first part of the story, right, 'massive fight' with the fiancé," she said, slightly exasperated.

Stephen put up his hands in mock defeat.

"Anyway, some guy approached me - to see if I was alright. We got to talking, and later on, going back to this house he'd rented, and…" she began subtly rocking her head back and forth.

"Ms Type A. Saint Olivia Pope, had a one-night stand," he teased.

"Wished I never told you now," she said dryly.

"Sorry, Liv, but it's just not you."

"Well, it was me that night," she told him firmly, trying hard to suppress the instinctive smile that came dancing to her lips whenever she thought about _that night_ with Fitzgerald Grant. She caught her breath, at the memory of him.

"My word!" exclaimed Stephen. "He must have been something special, if you're smiling like that weeks later."

Olivia blushed and distracted herself from Stephen's gaze by taking a sip of her tea.

"It was that good eh?"

"He was that good, I was that good - the whole experience was pretty intense!"

"Pray tell?"

"I don't know, he was just this handsome, funny, sexy as hell guy - with a voice that makes Barry White sound like a hyena on speed."

"Olivia Pope! I have never heard you so gaga over any man - not even Eddie-boy - in all the years I've known you."

She blushed again. What the hell was wrong with her? All of a sudden she was crushing out - big time!

"And now you're blushing. Who is this man? What universe did he arrive from? And should I be picking out curtains?"

"Stop your crazy talk- it wasn't like that!"

"Well it sounds, very much, that it was: _like that_. Are you seeing him again?"

"No," she replied, quickly shaking her head.

"He's married," Stephen stated flatly.

"Yes – no, I mean, yes: he's married. But it's not what you think."

"Okay…" Stephen drawled, suspicious of anything else she had to follow up with.

"You need to remember, I was still engaged at the time, so I can't really take any sort of moral high ground. We both understood it was a one-time thing, so no drama here, Stephen," she replied defensively, deliberately avoiding continuous eye contact with her friend.

"But you have feelings for him?"

"No," she shot back adamantly.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure…but I do have a situation."

"Go on…"

She looked at Stephen, and started to say something, but instead, took another sip of her tea. '"Liv," he prompted.

"I think I might be pregnant."

Stephen's eyes widened in shock, and he leaned in as if he didn't hear her quite catch what she'd just said. "Nothing to say?" she queried sheepishly.

Stephen sat back in his seat, starring in disbelief at his friend. And she looked back in anticipation of the telling off she felt was coming.

"Holy shit, Olivia!" Stephen exclaimed, running his hand through his hair.

"Yes, holy shit," she repeated.

"And it's…?"

"Edison and I hadn't been," she cleared her throat. "Edison and I…we…not for a few weeks - and I didn't use protection with this guy."

"Oh Liv, baby," he said gently.

"I know, how dumb can I be right?"

"No, we've all been there - 'caught up in the moment' - some of us more than others."

Olivia ruefully nodded at Stephen. She thought back to how reckless she'd behaved that night - but it had felt so right at the time.

"So what now?" he asked, concerned for his friend.

"Now nothing, if I'm really pregnant - and judging from the amount of projectile vomiting I've been doing, and being over a week late - I'm going to have this baby."

"Wow! You are? Do you think it's something he'd want to know about?"

Olivia paused to consider the question. She remembered the love when he spoke about his children.

"Yes to your first question, and no, no, I don't think so," she confirmed, shaking her head.

"So are you going to tell me who he is?"

"No point. It's done and I'm a big girl. I can do this by myself."

"You're seriously going ahead and having the baby?"

"Yes, I am."

Stephen whistled under his breath.

"That's a big decision, Liv. Are you sure this is something you want to go through by yourself - without the father's knowledge?"

"Is it something you'd want to know? Imagine this scenario: you and…what's the name of your latest squeeze? Salima? Okay, you and Salima are married, you have a one-night stand and the woman gets pregnant. Do you seriously want her showing up as you guys are about to carve the Thanksgiving turkey or Stephen Junior is playing in the backyard? Some random woman you seduced?"

"Seduced?"

"It's _you_ we're talking about Stephen."

"I take your point...I guess I'm just thinking about the impact on the child?"

"It's not the ideal situation, but I can handle it, like I've handled every other crisis in my life."

"Come on, at least give me the bloke's first name?"

She shook her head

"It's not important."

He studied her carefully.

"You were at your old professor's house, whom is now living and working in Washington DC…so there's a good chance there were some political movers and shakers in attendance."

"Stop fishing," she laughed nervously.

"Just doing a little process of elimination, Pope-Son my dear," he joked, exaggerating his accent.

"Stephen, please, it's not important who is the father is. The important thing _is_ I'm having this baby."

"Are going to tell Abby?"

"Maybe…but she's got a lot on her plate at the moment. And since she got married, we're not as close anymore."

"But she's good with stuff like this," he reasoned.

"I know, and I will…eventually, but not right now." Olivia knew he made sense. Her old friend was great when it came to helping out in times of crisis, but Olivia felt she had to hold back a little for now.

"Look, I maybe sounding a little more melodramatic than I need to, but this is something I don't even want my own mother finding out about."

"Not surprising, you and your mother can barely be in the same room together for more than five minutes."

Olivia rolled her eyes in despair.

God, I can't wait for that conversation, she thought. She'd do anything to have her father still alive to confide in at this particular junction in her life.

"Okay, my mother? Probably _not_ the best example, but I'm serious, Stephen. I'm going to have to quit CPA."

"No Olivia, that's crazy, you've only been with the firm for a couple of years and Andrew Price already thinks you walk on water. I can't believe they wouldn't support you."

"I appreciate what you're saying, but I need to keep this quiet…I don't really want them or anyone else to know - if I can help it," she said quietly. "I'm going to resign," she confirmed.

"Olivia, what's going on?"

She took a deep breath and realized she needed to disclose to just one person, and she couldn't have chosen a better person than her good friend.

"He's running for state governor at next year's election."

"What?"

"The father, Stephen, he's running for State Governor of California."

She observed Stephen's face going through several puzzled expressions, until his eyes finally widened in complete surprise.

"Fitzgerald Grant III. The former governor, Big Jerry's son is daddy? Fuck, Olivia."

"Nicely put."

"I'm sorry but he's the last person - I'm in shock."

"Why?"

"Come on, The Grants are WASP, republican, southern family, oil money. Do I really need to paint this picture for you?"

"So you're surprised he could be attracted to someone like me?" she asked offended.

"Olivia, you're beautiful - your gorgeousness transcends race - of course he'd fall for you. I'm just surprised - give me a break!"

She took another sip of her herbal tea. She grimaced slightly, she was normally a black coffee no sugar kind of woman, but since the morning sickness, this was the only beverage she could stomach.

"I take it the herbal tea thing is because of your condition?" She nodded.

"Chamomile is the new black for me," she smiled.

Stephen looked at her seriously.

"You certainly don't go for easy do you," he declared quietly, and her smile faltered.

"When has easy ever been an option for me."

"Quite. So you're doing a Madonna and 'keeping my baby'?"

She nodded.

"The other route is not an option for me. So I'm going to need your help."

Stephen reached forward, took his friend's hand and looked her straight in the eye.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Olivia took a deep breath and smiled.


	2. Chapter 1 The Hospital

******_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'. _**

* * *

**California 2013**

**13 years later**

**Chapter 1**

_**The Hospital**_

_You've got wires going in_

_You've got wires, coming out of your skin_

_You've got tears making tracks_

_I've got tears that are scared of the facts_

_Running down corridors, through, automatic doors_

_Got to get to you, got to see this through_

_Wires_ - Athlete

Camille Pope brought her damp tissue to her face to wipe away the tears spilling down her cheeks, as she stared at her mother's prone body on the hospital bed. She stood taking in the full horror of her mother's accident that left her with a broken leg and severe head trauma. It was hard for her to see that the most important person in her life, her vibrant and forceful mom - _The_ Olivia Pope - lying unconscious and helpless. Casting her eyes over her mom's heavily bruised face with a tube coming from her mouth, and right leg elevated in a full cast it all became too much again. Her body felt tense from the tight pain gripping her chest that started the moment she heard about her mom's accident from her mom's good friend and former work colleague, Abby Whelan. That sharp memory made her body involuntarily start to shake harder; and she began to cry again. Staring at the machines, tubes, drips, needles affixed to her mom and keeping her alive, Camille switched her attention to the white sheets and lights, thinking that it might give her a new prospectus on the situation. But the more she tried to understand the events of the last twenty-four hours the more confused she became.

Camille shook her head trying to face up to the reality that her mom's head injury had left her in a coma; and she was now fighting for her life in a hospital bed in Santa Barbara, California. This did not make sense. Her mom told her she was flying to Washington DC on business. So why was she in Santa Barbara? Why would her mom lie to her? Everything had happened in a flash since she heard about her mom falling down a flight of stairs at the airport and striking her head on the final step. The image was too like a cartoon strip storyline to be believable. And so Camille had fallen into a trance-like state. In the last twelve hours she had packed up her bags; been driven to the airport; boarded a private jet; landed in California; met Abby and her mom's other close confidante, Huck; been taken straight to the hospital; and now here she was: standing beside her mom. She had done all those things, but Camille felt like she had stepped out of her body and was functioning as her own shadow - she was present, but like a ghost. Is this what people referred to as operating on autopilot? Now staring down at her mom she had an opportunity to take in recent events; and she needed answers.


	3. Chapter 2 Fix You

_********__Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'. _

* * *

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Fix You**_

_**(24 hours earlier)**_

_Tears stream down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_Tears stream down your face_

_And I…_

_Tears stream down your face_

_I promise I will learn from my mistakes_

_Tears stream down your face_

_And I…_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

_Fix You_ - Coldplay

Camille smiled into her cereal as she thought about the start of her summer vacation. No teachers or schoolwork to think about for three glorious months.

She was sitting across the kitchen table from her mom, munching down on corn flakes as her mom sipped on her morning black coffee. Camille smiled transformed into a cheeky grin as she began thinking about her immediate shopping trip with her best friend, Jessica Clarke, when she looked up to see her mom also smiling in a kind of dreamlike state.

"What you looking so pleased about?" Camille asked.

"Oh, nothing sweetie, just woke up feeling good about us spending quality time together over the summer months," Olivia replied, happily.

"Except it's my summer vacation and you're still working."

"I told you, I'm going to DC for three days, then I'm back and I'm all yours - I promise," she said, defensively, clearing her throat. Camille raised an eyebrow.

"_You_ promise?" she mocked.

"Yes, yes, yes, I get it. I never make promises, but this time it's different. I've planned a big surprise for you this summer. I - it's gonna be good." Olivia seemed unsure as though she was trying to convince herself as well as Camille.

Camille narrowed her eyes, because her mom really wasn't the type to do promises; and something about her mom's statement was a little off.

"Don't be so suspicious all the time," Olivia said.

Camille shrugged and went back to her cereal; maybe her mom was right maybe she was over thinking things. After all Olivia was just going on one of her many business trips to Washington DC and there was nothing extraordinary about that. Since she was a baby, Camille was used to not seeing her mom for large periods of time due to her work. Camille looked up from her bowl when she heard Olivia start humming absently-mindedly. She casually observed her mom and a pair of warm luminous brown eyes looked back at her. Camille broke out into a crocked smile. She noticed Olivia's smile fade slightly and her breath hitched. Finally, she broke eye contact with her daughter.

Camille's heart slightly sank. She knew that look too well. Her mom was thinking about _him_ and it made her silently mad. Camille wondered how a clever woman like her mother could allow one man - _just one man_ - to reduce her to a quivering wreck. Olivia tried to conceal her feelings when it came to him, but not from Camille, who could read her mom's raw emotions. In fact her observational skill was something Olivia would comment on and often told Camille what an asset she would have been to her when she ran Olivia Pope & Associates.

In 2004 Olivia established OPA and operated as one of the most successful and sought-after crisis managers in her field. Her clients list included politicians, corporate folk, celebrities, as well as the ordinary Joe on the street. No matter what their status or profile, they all had one thing in common: they wanted fixing. And when you were having one of the worse days of your life, your best 'get out of jail card' was Olivia Pope and her formidable team of associates, who referred to themselves as Gladiators. Her career was legendary, just asked the man she made President - Camille's father - Fitzgerald Grant III.

Olivia never hid the truth from Camille regarding her father, and from an early age she knew he was a busy man with lots of important responsibilities that included looking after millions of Americans as state governor and then as president of the country between 2004 and 2012.

In the beginning, listening to her mother's stories made her view her father as though he was a super hero: protecting people from harm and making their lives better. She felt so excited and full of pride. Yet the same time Camille was confused by his absence and kept asking her mom why she couldn't meet and be with her dad like other children. It didn't help when she would see the occasional television footage of him with his other children: hugging and kissing them and declaring to the world how much of a family man he was.

Of course, Olivia understood her confusion and tried her best to explain that her father loved them both in his own special way. But a long time ago, before she had met Camille's father and she had been born, he had made a promise to his first family, and he was bound to keep that promise. So although he loved Olivia and Camille, they had to keep his love secret. But moms and dads are supposed to love and care for all their children, thought Camille, and if he loved them so much why would he want to keep them both a secret?

Four years later when Olivia made the decision quit OPA and hang up her goody-two-shoes 'white hat' and transferred her business into the hands of former District Attorney-turned-Gladiator Davis Rosen, Olivia said it had all been a part of her long-term strategy: to build a successful business, move on and spend more time with her daughter.

Camille was thrilled when her mom decided to quit OPA and be with her full-time. Much as she loved living with her 'Uncle Stephen' and 'Auntie Georgina' nothing could beat living with her mom, and for the first few months Camille was the happiest little girl on the planet. However their being back together soon took a nightmare turn.

Olivia and Camille had been moving around for a time and one of their pit-stops had been London. They had been living in the city for a month or so and it was a typical day. Camille had just had lunch and was sitting on the sofa in their living room, playing some made-up game with her dolls with the television on in the background. Olivia soon came in, ruffled her daughter's hair, and sat down beside her on the sofa. She began aimlessly flicking through the TV channels when she gasped out loud and froze. Camille instantly looked up at her mom, and followed her dumbstruck face to the screen. And there he was - her father. He was standing on the White House lawn proudly holding his newborn son, Teddy, and next to him stood his beautiful wife. Camille called her mom but it was like she wasn't there. The remote control slipped from Olivia's hand and went crashing to the floor as she tore out of the room in floods of tears. Camille jumped down from the sofa, and ignoring her scattering dolls, sped after her mom, asking her what was wrong. But Olivia just ran up the stairs, straight into her bedroom; and slammed the door in a distraught Camille's face.

Tearfully Camille slumped to the floor outside her mom's bedroom door in a state of shock. She began repeatedly knocking and begging her mom to open the door so she could see she was okay, because she was scared. But all she heard were the creaking floorboards from her mom's constant pacing in circles - a trait of hers, indicating something was wrong – and finally, total silence.

For the next six months Olivia fell into this pattern of behavior: locking herself away when her heartbreak over Fitz was too painful to bear. Camille was in pieces over her mom's unhappiness. She was confused as to why all of a sudden her mom was so sad about her dad. He must have done something bad, she thought. Or maybe she had? Maybe being his daughter was a bad thing. At times Camille wanted to call her uncle or aunt for their help, and on one occasion she felt desperate enough to want to contact her father. But deep down in her gut, the little girl held back, sensing that her mom's funny behavior wasn't something she should be sharing with anyone else. So she kept quiet.

Instead, Camille came up with her own coping mechanism. She would sit outside her mom's bedroom door constantly telling Olivia how sorry she was for making her sad and list all the nice things she would do to make her mom not be upset with her. Sometimes she would press her body up against the bedroom door with her arms outstretched and tell her mom she was giving her a big hug. But it didn't make a difference: Olivia remained closed off to her daughter.

Camille developed a habit of drawing pictures she called: _Smile at My Picture_. Taking her colored pens and pencils, she would draw images of herself and Olivia, family members, and friends. Sandwiched between the images she would write messages like: 'my special mom' and 'I love you'. She would create numerous drawings and neatly pile then up one on top of the other, and finally, she would carefully push each individual picture under the bedroom door. She'd then sit patiently by the door and wait and wait…and wait. Sometimes Camille would be sitting outside the door for so long, by the time Olivia was ready to come out, Camille would be fast asleep, and Olivia would have to carry her to bed.

As suddenly as Olivia's mood appeared, it disappeared, and she was back to her old self. She spent the following weeks apologizing profusely to Camille about her odd behavior. She fussed over her daughter spoiling her with new clothes, games, books, and toys. She expressed her gratitude to Camille for all her wonderful drawings, and now, whenever she felt sad, she would look at Camille's pictures to feel better because her drawings were like medicine. Olivia even brought a beautiful wooden box to keep the pictures safe. Discovering her daughter's artistic side, Olivia arranged for Camille to attend art classes and on the weekends they'd visited community art studios and make clay mugs and plates - to feed her daughter's new interest.

Olivia sat Camille down and carefully explained that because of the love she felt for her father, being away from him was sometimes so unbearable, that she found it difficult to be around anyone. But Camille must remember her father was a good man and he'd made a lot of sacrifices in his life to 'be the great man he was destined to be' and she shouldn't think too badly or blame him for Olivia's recent behavior.

Camille accepted her mom's apologies and treated her to plenty of warm cuddles and kisses. However it was too late, concerning how Camille felt about her father. Regardless of Olivia's assurances, Camille connected her mom's sadness directly to him, and any good feelings she had about her dad had slowly evaporated over the months her mom was locking herself away. She feared bringing up anything to do with him would trigger her mom's sadness, so she stopped talking about him and became monosyllabic whenever Olivia brought his name up.

Over the coming years she stopped thinking about Fitz as her father, which wasn't much of a challenge seeing as they'd never meet. It helped that - thanks to her mom's close friendship with Stephen and only long-term boyfriend, Jake Ballard - she enjoyed the influence of positive male roles models in her life. So she didn't believe she was missing out on not knowing Fitzgerald Grant III.

Looking up from her cereal at she suddenly felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest and she was breathing a little too quickly, so took a couple of deep breaths. She closed her index and middle fingers together to rub her right eye, and swept both fingers across her eyebrow in a rhythmical motion – a childhood habit to indicate she was angry, tired, or both. Right now she was angry.

Fuming her mother was too stuck on _him_, and at times it made her want to shake some sense into her. What was so darn special about him? He reminded Camille of the spoilt preppy boys at her school who walked around with a sense of their own importance and entitlement. _He'd_ probably woken up one day and decided he wanted to be president and with the click of his fingers it happened. Just. Like. That.

Camille turned her attention back to Olivia and watched as she drained the last of her now lukewarm coffee, and got up to place her cup in the sink. She turned back quickly, and caught Camille still staring at her.

'What?" Olivia asked in her trademark abrupt manner, but she was smiling in good humor. Camille shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"Nothing," she mumbled into her half eaten cereal.

Olivia's shoulders slumped slightly. Maybe Camille was more disappointed about her latest work trip than she originally let on, she thought.

'I know this isn't exactly the ideal way for us to start your summer vacation." Olivia began. "But I'm going to make it up to you."

"Mom, it's fine. You're only gone for a couple of days and I've got my class tomorrow, and Jessie and I are going shopping at Woodbury for her Hawaii trip. Anyway, it's not the first time you've left me to fend for myself," she joked at her mom.

Camille knew Olivia felt reassured that she would be staying with her best friend. Camille met Jessica Clarke when she enrolled at Millwood a private school in Manhattan. Due to the academic progress Camille had made as a result of being home schooled she had been allowed to skip a year. However there were concerns her young age would mean she'd find it hard to make new friends. But from the moment Jessica picked Camille to join her team during gym class the two girls immediately bonded, and the year age gap was never an issue. Jessica and her family also lived a few doors away from Olivia and Camille, which allowed the girls spend a lot of their free time together and enjoy a close friendship.

"We'll have a good summer," Olivia said casually, but it came out a little forced. "I'll be back before you know it."

'Yes, Mom, you worry too much," she answered, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Clearing the rest of her breakfast away, Olivia smiled at her daughter.

"I worry, that's my job, so sue me."

Camille finished her last mouthful of cereal and also took it to the sink and started washing up.

"Why don't you stick them in the dishwasher," Olivia suggested, looking at her watch. Her flight was in three hours and she needed to get a move on.

"No point, there's only a few things; plus no-one's gonna be here for the next couple of days," she replied running hot and cold-water taps. She reached for the washing- up liquid on the window ledge and pouring some of the thick green liquid onto the dishcloth, started washing up the few cups, bowls and plates from breakfast.

Olivia was smiling casually at Camille, taking in her daughter's smooth light caramel skin and her masses of dark curly brown hair with lighter brown streaks that hung down passed her shoulders, although today it was held in an untidy bun with a scrunchie. People actually thought she dyed her hair.

'You know how much I love you don't you?" Olivia said softly.

'I know. I love you too."

"My life has always been so complicated, but you're the one thing that's always made perfect sense. I hope to make up for all the times I haven't been around because of work or …' her voice faltered slightly as she studied her daughter's reaction carefully. She reached out to sweep back a loose curl behind her ear that had escaped from Camille's bun, and felt her daughter's body stiffen slightly. Camille began washing the cutlery, before turning off the both taps and wiping down the excess water and suds. Olivia knew if she so much as mentioned the 'F' word her daughter would shut down. It pained her, because she had to take a lot of the responsibility for Camille's attitude.

Reaching for a towel hanging on the sink door, Camille began drying her wet hands.

"I'm not gonna lie, I haven't had the most conventional upbringing, but I put that down to having a pretty special mom."

Olivia smiled broadly at Camille. Sometimes she could just burst with how much joy her gorgeous daughter had brought into her life. Out of the pain of the last few years she had been blessed with this precious gift. She slipped her arm around her daughter's waist and gave her a warm embrace.

"You are the best, do you know that?" she declared. "I just want you to be happy."

"Come on, soppy, let's go," laughed Camille.

"Yep - let's go." And mother and daughter set about collecting their bags and locking up the house. Walking down the concrete steps towards Olivia's car, Camille waited as her mom packed her suitcase into the car truck, and come back to rejoin her. They then walked together towards Jessica's house.

"You got all your pads, pencils and books for your class tomorrow?"

Camille nodded, and shifted her overnight bag more securely onto her shoulder.

'Yeah, I've got my homework with me," she said, knowing her mom had no real interest in her obsession with the arts. "Is that my surprise?" she mocked. "Are you taking me the Lourve in Paris?"

Olivia laughed.

"Why are you teasing me?"

"Because…"

"Because what?"

"Because I know how much it burns you that I'm not pouring over books on American history and politics. And I'm more tuned into MTV than CNN."

"Cam," began Olivia in mock defense. "I've always encouraged you to pursue your dreams. But you know if you ever did feel like talking about The Constitution or Tort Law, I'm your girl - that's all I'm saying."

And they both burst out laughing. As soon as they arrived at Jessica's front door it opened immediately, and when Camille saw her best friend, the two girls squealed, and she eagerly ran up the steps. Soon they were both embracing each other and chatting away excitedly. Olivia followed behind Camille, and Jessica broke off her conversation, for a millisecond, to say 'hello' to Olivia who returned the greeting, as she passed her to step inside and speak with Jessica's mom Leticia, who had just appeared in the wide hallway. The two woman discussed Olivia's trip and what the girls would be up to for the next few days. Olivia confirmed her contact numbers and arrival time back home. She turned to Camille to say a final goodbye.

"You look after yourself and behave - no rowdy behavior - I know what you and Jess are like when you get together," she scolded gently.

"Yes, Mom, love you too."

Mother and daughter looked at each other and smiled that knowing smile when you understand and love someone completely.

"Come here," Olivia, insisted, and they embraced in a long warm hug.

"And while I'm gone, stop growing," she joked, looking at her daughter at eye level.

"Aah, you worried I'm out growing you, shorty?"

"Okay, I've been mocked enough by you today - I'm gone. Love you. Love you. Love you."

"Love you too. Call me when you get to DC so I know you got there safe, okay?" Camille insisted.

"I always do, sweetie." She gave her daughter a last quick kiss and said goodbye to Jessica and Leticia.

Camille watched Olivia descend down the steps and as she reached the last step she turned back and mother and daughter gave each a smile and a final wave goodbye.


	4. Chapter 3 JFK Moment

_********__Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'. _

* * *

_**Chapter 3**_

_**JFK Moment**_

_I never got the chance to see him_

_Never heard nothing but bad things about him_

_Mama, I'm depending on you, tell me the truth_

_And Mama just hung her head and said,_

_Son, Papa was a rolling stone_

_Wherever he laid his hat, was his home_

_Papa Was a Rolling Stone - _The Temptations

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

Camille's mind flipped back to real time events and she was back in the hospital room. There was a knock at the door and Camille turned smiling weakly as Huck re-entered the hospital room and joined her. Together they stared down at Olivia's lifeless body.

"Where's everyone?" Camille asked.

"They're in Starbucks. We thought it would be a good idea to give you some privacy. What did the doctor say to you?"

Camille wiped her eyes again.

"Just that she's has a serious head injury…something about it being a grade three coma? And they had to perform an emergency op to stop bleeding between her skull and her brain…then he got called away, but said he'd come back to see."

"Can I get you anything?"

'I-I'm okay…" she choked out, as her body surrendered to the overwhelming sadness that continued to weigh her down. She began chewing on her already shredded to nothing fingernails and used them to pinch her inner bottom lip, for control, but it was no good, more tears fell. Her mom would be telling her to be strong and this could be fixed. Every problem could be fixed in Olivia Pope's world. So she began squeezing her hands together so hard she could feel her blunt nails digging into her palm, and silently willed herself to stop crying. Sensing her growing distress, Huck reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of crumbled fresh tissues and handed then to her.

"Thanks, Hucky-Bear," she sobbed, taking the tissues. Keeping one back to dry her tear-stained face, she pushed the rest down into her jean pocket. 'Hucky-Bear' was her personal nickname for Huck; and the former CIA operative and trained killer made it clear the use of that name was licensed only to Camille. It bound Camille to Huck and made her realize how much the brooding hard man loved her as his own. He gave her a rare hug.

"And thanks for sorting out my flight so quickly, a private jet - eh? I didn't know you had friends in such high places," she joked through her tears. Huck shuffled slightly.

"Er, no problem,' he said, and flipped back to focusing on Olivia.

"Your mom, she's one of the toughest people I know, she's gonna to pull through."

"But the doctor was saying that it's really serious Huck. What if she - "

"Stop, that's not an option for your mom, she's got too much fight in her to give up. She's got you; and you're her world. She'd never leave you."

"My mom's in a coma, Huck," Camille insisted. "That's not something you cure with a couple of Tylenol."

"You've got to think positive, Camille. And look where you mom is? She's receiving the best medical care money can buy."

Camille cast her eyes around the high tech room with state of the art equipment. She took in the green pastel colored wallpaper, soft furnishings that included a large sofa situated in front of a large window, a small table and two chairs. To the left of her mom's bed stood a solid oak wardrobe and cabinet. On the other side was a fridge and close by was a door, where Camille could just make out a shower and WC. In some ways her mom's room resembled a hotel room.

"I'm not being funny Huck, but how can my mom afford all this?"

Huck stiffened slightly and looked away from her.

"You know, your mom made some careful investments, and has a good medical insurance policy."

"Huck, I'm not stupid. This is a private room on like a private wing or something. My mom does okay, but she's not Beyonce giving birth to Jay Z's baby."

"From what I understand, your mom had to be rushed here, and this is a temporary ICU provision, set up especially for your mom, because of her injury," Huck lied. He was saved from expanding upon his elaborate tale by a text alert to his cell phone. "That's Stephen, saying he's gonna be here in the next few of days."

Camille gave a weak smile. Uncle Stephen would be here with rest of the Gladiator crew and it reassured her. Even though he was thousands of miles away, she remained close to her uncle - thanks to Face Time. Since her birth he had been the one true constant in her life. He and his new wife, Georgina, had sat down with Olivia and all three had come up with a plan that the newly married couple would look after toddler Camille, and help keep the vultures away, who would surely have descended, and rip her world apart, if the truth about her parentage was ever revealed.

"We need to be as strong for her as she is for all of us," Huck said, always coming back to Olivia's well being. She nodded in agreement at his words, and simple rested her head on Huck's shoulder. She knew he meant well, but as she stared at a fragile looking Olivia, she wondered if she could let herself believe that her mom would pull through.

There was a polite knock on the door and Camille and Huck turned to see two nurses entered the room who said 'hello' and explained they were part of her mom's medical team. They both proceeded to check on Olivia's current state and administer medication by intravenous drip. Camille could only look on with that same feeling of helplessness. One of the nurses looked over at Camille smiling empathetically at her.

"We're just making sure your mom's comfortable. In the meantime talk to her - it helps," she gently explained encouragingly, to both Camille and Huck. Camille asked if she could get a glass for some water and the nurse promised to return shortly, leaving the door ajar when she and her colleague left.

"Huck, do you know why my mom flew here to California, when she told me she was going to DC?" she asked carefully.

She was not giving up, thought Huck as he watched her drying her face and red blotchy eyes.

Huck knew virtually every move his former boss made but how much should he reveal to her daughter? He loved Camille Pope like she was his own family, and he didn't want to lie to her. But he had promised to keep all her mom's secrets.

'Huck," she pushed.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," was the best response he could come up with. She knew he was lying.

'Please Huck, my mom's laying here and could -" she sobbed in despair. "I need to know why she's here. Please?"

Huck sighed deeply and opened his mouth to answer when a deep shaky baritone voice interjected on Huck's behalf.

"I'm the reason she's here," he told Camille quietly.

The twelve-year old girl's head snapped round and she gasped in surprise, as she found herself looking up into the most piercing grey-blue eyes she'd ever seen. He was taller than he seemed on television and better looking too. He was muscular in build and clearly worked out. But what really surprised Camille was, that for a man pushing nearly fifty, how much younger he looked, with his shock of thick wavy dark hair and barely noticeable flicks of grey at both sides of his temples. He looked tired though, like he had not slept for a while.

His focus on her was just as intense. He couldn't help being blown away by how stunning she was - just like her mother. His eyes momentarily flickered over to Olivia torn between wanting to rush to her bedside and remain connected to the young girl who was staring at him with her beautiful captivating doe-like brown eyes. It made Fitz instantly warm to her because she was simply a younger version of his one true love and soulmate - his Livvie.

Fitz attempted a smile at Camille but she shot back with a scowl.

Camille knew who he was, of course she did. But like millions of other Americans she knew him _only_ as The President. Well, okay, the _former_ President: Fitzgerald Grant III 43rd President of the United States of America. A two-terms president and recently voted one of the most popular Commander-In-Chiefs in living memory. And that was okay. She didn't care about anything else concerning him.

Camille cast a look of distain at him, making it clear he was not welcome.

Fitz cleared his throat to still the nervousness he felt at seeing her in the flesh for the first time in his life. He stood in the arc of the hospital room staring at her in wonder.

"Would it be okay if I had a private word with…?" he trailed off breaking eye contact to turn to Huck, and then back at Camille.

Fitz attempted another smile, but she cut him a cold wide side-eye look.

"No Huck. You stay. _He_ can go!" Her ice-cold words made Fitz flinch, and his upper body rocked back and forth with nervous tension.

He instinctively put his hands in his pockets, steadying himself for the bumpy ride he felt sure was ahead. He understood she would be somewhat distant - considering the circumstances - but the pure unadulterated hatred emanating from her petit frame left no room for misunderstanding: she hated him.

"Please…" Fitz began, edging his way further into the room and pressing his back against the door to close it.

"Huck is my friend. I don't know who _you_ are," she told him brutally.

He took a long deep breath, looking directly at the angry young girl standing in front of him, because what Fitz was about to say went against the game plan.

"You know who I am. I'm your father," he told her softly.

Camille visibly shuddered at his words as her eyes flickered with the heartache of hearing him admit his relationship to her for the first time. This was Camille's 'where were you?' JFK moment and the irony wasn't lost on her. She felt her heart thumping hard into her rib cage and reverberating like a pounding drum throughout her whole body; and cumulating into deafening ringing in her ears. She felt the intense heat of her anger boiling and spilling from her eyes like lava bursting from a volcano, as she thought about all the years of pent-up anger she wanted to unleash, if she ever had the chance to confront him.

At this moment Camille wished she possessed the strength of Superman, and could use her super-strength arms to power swoosh him so far away that a whole other planet orbited between them. Yet at the same time, she felt a curious pull towards him making her feel unsure. But that feeling was superseded by her very real anger, demanding she get right up in his face, screaming accusations and questions about his treatment of her mother, and where he had been for the first twelve years of her existence.

After what seemed like hours - as Camille tried to get her head around the surreal circumstances - she became aware she hadn't said anything and he was waiting for her next move. So in typical teenage fashion she responded with a long exaggerated roll of her eyes. Fitz cleared his throat.

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time."

Silence.

"I'm so sorry about your mom."

Silence.

"I wish we were meeting under different circumstances."

Silence.

This was not how Fitz envisioned meeting his daughter for the first time. He knew she was due to fly into California today, having liaised with Huck to arrange her flight from New York to Santa Barbara in his private jet. That part had been easy, but now that she was finally here, it was a completely different story. Fitz had been going over what to say that could help her understand his no-show for nearly thirteen years. But how the hell do you start a conversation with your own child like that? You know nothing about her life. She is a stranger to you. No matter how many times Fitz thought he had the answers, his mind would throw him another curve ball and confusion was back in play. He realized the only thing he could do when he finally met Camille was speak to her straight from the heart.

There was no speechwriter for this conversation. No doubt, it was going to one of the toughest conversations of his life, but having been through such a tempestuous relationship with Olivia, and them still aching to be together, proved to him nothing was impossible. Fitz had to keep the faith and trust they could start the healing process. But as Camille glared furiously at him, he could see faith and trust were the furthest thoughts from her mind.

Huck, who had never been over fond of the former president, recognized the delicate situation occurring between the newly acquainted father and daughter. But his concern was primarily for Olivia currently in serious danger, and requiring a peaceful environment to aid her recovery. He knew Camille was a sensible girl, but she was a child nevertheless, and therefore prone to childish outbursts. He didn't want a confrontation that could do more harm than good at this present time.

"Listen Cam, you and -" Huck scratched his head, gesturing over at Fitz: "You need to talk. I'm gonna go and catch up with the rest of the guys in Starbucks – it's down on the third floor," he explained gently. Camille's eyes lit up fiercely, and she took a deep breath, ready to protest. He put his hand up in front of her. "It's okay. Just be - you know. Look after your mom." She instantly calmed down at the mention of her mom and gave a small smile. Huck gave her shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze before turning to leave. He ignored Fitz's 'thank you' eyes, and left, closing the door firmly behind him. Camille subconsciously rocked her head and folded her arms across her chest.

The awkward silence when Huck left the room was even more palpable with just the two of them. Fitz was shifting from one foot to the other. His throat felt tight and he was swallowing uncomfortably to release the tightest but it made his throat contract even more; and added to his overall edginess. Camille took immense pleasure in his obvious discomfort and she was purposefully eye-balling the man who had just confirmed he was her father - albeit twelve years and ten months too late. Fitz tentatively stepped towards her. She panicked! And instinctively took a step back! She didn't want him anywhere near her! Picking up on her vibe, Fitz changed tact, and walked over to Olivia's empty bedside, so they were now facing each other. This was Fitz's second visit since Olivia had been admitted yesterday evening. His heart ached for the guilt he felt that she was laying here because she had flown to Santa Barbara, so they could spend some private time together before making their big announcement. He removed one of his hands from his trouser pocket and reaching for her small delicate hand, he carefully began rubbing her fingers.

"Don't touch her!" Camille hissed at him, wondering how he had the nerve to show up at the hospital, let alone put his hand on her mom. Fitz looked pensively up at his daughter, and sighed with a heavy heart. He understood her angst towards him, after all his own relationship with his deceased father had been fraught with tension throughout his childhood and adult life. She was dealing with twelve years of his absence, and the last thing he wanted was to antagonize her further. So reluctantly, he slowly removed his hand from Olivia's own and returned it to his trouser pocket.

He looked directly into Camille's hostile eyes and swallowed hard. How to begin a conversation that felt over before it had even started was going to be tough, but he would do his best.

"Whatever you think, I have always loved your mother. I love you both."

"Sure. Whatever."

"Camille…" It was the first time he'd said her name, and it came out like a whisper. "I understand you're angry with me…probably hate me. You've every right to feel let down, because let's face it: I've let you down. I personally did that to you, and I'm so sorry. That doesn't cover the half of it, but I am sorry, because you deserved, I mean, you deserve the best of me, not the worst of me. I appreciate that meeting me like this for the first time - it must be your worst nightmare." Camille snorted rudely at him. He ignored her and continued. "But we can both agree our first priority is being here for Livvie - your mom. We need to support her together… as a team?" He raised his eyebrows, in the hope that their mutual love for Olivia, could help bridge some of the gap between father and daughter.

Camille said nothing because much as she hated to admit it, she knew he was right. The last thing her mom would want to witness - on any level - was Camille arguing with him.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, but we do need to talk…there's lot of things that I need to explain to you about –"

"Why is my mom here?" she cut across him bluntly.

"She came to see me. I live here, in Santa Barbara."

"What? Why? It doesn't make any sense. You and my mom are _definitely_ over."

Fitz shook his head."No, we've never been completely over. Not since we fell in love all those years ago." Camille's eyes widened, as her head popped forward.

"I don't believe you," she said, incredulously, shaking her head.

"Olivia and I were making our final arrangements before we told - "

"Spare me the Disney fairytale story, okay?" she interrupted angrily, putting out her hand like a stop sign.

"This is no fairytale story. I'm telling you the truth."

"The truth?" she questioned sarcastically. "What a joke!"

"Camille…"

"The truth is your one of those men who marries your trophy wife and you smile for the cameras. But behind closed doors, when the cameras stop click, clicking, you like to get down with the help."

"You could not be more wrong." Fitz felt his anger start to rise, as she demeaned the most important relationship he'd ever had with a woman. "I loved - love your mother."

"You love my mom so much you had to keep her a secret and me out of sight."

"I would have given it all up in a heartbeat, if it meant being with you both."

"Oh My God. Stop! You. Sound. Pathetic."

Cocking her head to one side she looked quizzically at him like he was a specimen she was studying in a science class.

"What was it? Was it just a 'black thing' for you? Were you trying to emulate that other president who kept a black woman as his sex slave back in the day? Huh! Fast-forward to twenty-first century America, and _you_ give my mom a fancier title, and call her your fixer - yeah? So tell me Mr. President, how many others had to _fix _you in the White House over the years? You know, besides my mom, I mean?"

Her caustic words were punctuated with sarcasm and double meanings, leaving him with a horrible empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. What Camille had just accused him of took him right back to the emotionally charged 'Sally Hemmings and Thomas Jefferson' argument between him and Olivia in the White House Rose Garden - all those years ago.

"You think your mother was some type of cheap thrill for me? That I'm some kind of casual racist?"

"YES!" she shouted, and instantly regretted her actions. She didn't want to do this here, but she was crazy mad at him, and the rage pulsating through her veins for this man wouldn't leave her. She didn't care if she offended him. "Yes," she repeated, resuming her lower hissing voice at him. "I think you played my mom."

"I never set out to 'play your mom'. I fell hopelessly in love with her."

Camille was about to respond but he cut her off.

"That's what happened, whether you want to believe me or not. Olivia was hired to work for me based solely on her talent. She is one of the cleverest, if not the cleverest person I've ever met. She virtually won the 2004 election for me single handedly. Ask anyone who knew me back then: I was a pretty good state governor, but nowhere near presidential material, until your mom agreed to work on my campaign. She made me believe I could be a better man, gave me the confidence, the belief that I could achieve great things for my country and our future generation. She opened up another world to me and made me feel alive. I owe her my life."

Camille gave him a quiet slow handclap.

"'She made me a better man.' 'Achieve great things.' 'I owe her my life.' Wow! Nice soundbites! You really are very good."

"I'm not trying to impress you."

"No? Could've fooled me," she mumbled under her breath.

"I didn't want this, Camille -" he began, and her eyes widened.

"You didn't want this? You mean you didn't want me?" she gasped.

"No,' he said quickly, "That's not what I meant at all. I have always wanted you, from the moment I found out, I…" he paused, and took a breath. Fitz didn't want there to be any confusion about what he was saying. "Look, can we not do this here? Do you think you might want to consider coming to…coming to stay with me, while you're in California?" Fitz asked cautiously, expecting she would reject his offer outright. But what choice did he have? He wanted to reach out to her - she was his daughter.

"I have a ranch and there's plenty of room."

"Oh my," she squealed in a mock Southern accent, and fanning herself in excitement. "Do I get to come and stay in the big house?"

"Okay. You need to stop that." Fitz said, seriously offended by her implication and tone. "I love all my children equally -"

"But some are more equal than others, right Mr. President?"

Fitz took a sharp intake of breath and shuffling his feet from left to right, he looked up to the heavens, as he tried to remain unperturbed by her accusations. Camille knew she was being rude and deliberately provocative, but that was _his_ problem not hers. She wasn't prepared to give this man an inch, after everything he'd put her mom through.

"As I was saying," he continued, looking back down at her. "I love all my children - equally." Fitz was adamant that he wasn't going to let her bitingly clever outbursts get the better of him. "I just thought with your mom being cared for here, you'd want to be close by. Gerry and Teddy are home for the summer holidays and Karen's volunteering with UNICEF in Asia, but planning on flying back home, as soon as she can. It would be nice for you all to get to know each other." She broke eye contact with him and began fidgeting with her hands.

"You ignored me for twelve years." she mumbled. He took that as a signal that deep down somewhere she cared, and was pushing him away to defend herself from nearly thirteen years of pain.

He took another deep inhale and exhaled slowly.

"I never meant to ignore you, believe me, it was the last thing I wanted to do. Things haven't always been that straightforward when it comes to my relationship with your mother." His voice was softer again. "I think you're smart enough to understand our relationship was-is complicated. But Livvie is the love of my life," he declared, looking at Olivia. "I've never felt about another woman the way I feel about her, not even my wife, as terrible as that must sound." He looked back at Camille. "I have a spiritual connection with your mother that makes me feel whole. I can't explain it."

"So don't, because I. Don't. Care. Save it for your memoirs," she seethed at him. Flinging her arms out in a theatrical motion, she continued. "Tell you what, you can include a chapter and call it _The Star-Crossed Lovers Verses The Star-Spangled Banner_. It can be all about how you sacrificed your one true love to be president. Great story, and should help shift a few extra copies on Amazon. Okay, you'll probably gloss over your one dirty little secret, oh, that's me, by the way," she said, pointing a finger at her chest, "so you can continue to play the good guy." She finished by folding her arms across her chest, and sucking her teeth beneath her breath at him.

She really was her mother's daughter, thought Fitz, with her razor sharp tongue. At any other time he would have been impressed by her quick mind and ability to hit back hard and defend herself. That is, if he wasn't the one currently on the receiving end of her verbal jabs that left him hanging on the ropes.

"I know I've let you down in the worse possible way. I-I…I've deprived you of me being a real father to you, but believe me when I tell you I am sorry. I've got so much to make up to you. I can't erase the last twelve, nearly thirteen years, but I want a chance to start afresh…to get to know you…we kind of all do: Karen, Gerry and Teddy. They all know about you and want to meet you. I think it's important you know you have a family."

"I've got a family, thanks very much."

Wow! Fitz thought running his hands through his hair and in the process closing his index and middle fingers together to rub his right eye and swept both fingers over his eyebrow. He repeated the action a few times.

Wow! Camille thought. He does the two-finger rub over his right eye and eyebrow just like me, when I'm tired or upset. She frowned at him. Because it irked her that she had at least one mannerism she had clearly inherited from him.

"Please, Camille, aren't you willing to at least give me a chance," he insisted, throwing his hands out in a half circular motion towards her. "To prove to you, I want to be a _real _father to you?" He sounded desperate, but she was too caught in her bitterness to meet this man - even halfway. She wasn't her mother. He couldn't woo her with clever words and empty promises. He simply didn't deserve her. Fact!

"A chance to what, exactly? Make up for twelve years of your crap? Not gonna happen."

"Well I'm not going to stop trying," Fitz told her, pointedly. "You're my daughter and I love you."

"Stop saying that. You don't know me."

"I know you in my heart - you're a part of me."

Fitz was staring directly into her eyes. Camille tried to hold his gaze, but the intensity of his words rocked her. She was forced to look away from him, shaking her head. But Fitz pushed on. "Can you honestly say you'd prefer me to ignore you, pretend you don't exist…now that we've finally met?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sucked in her cheeks.

"Camille, I'm trying here."

"So what do you want? A medal?" she shot back, pouting at him. But inside she was shaking and could feel the start of tears prickling like shards of glass at the back of her eyes. She knew that with one slow flick of her long lashes she would burst into tears, and the portal would open, revealing her twelve years of hurt. But she'd die before she cried in front of this man. So Camille blinked hard several times and was taking in large gulps of air as she tried to regain some control of her emotions.

"I want to get to know you. I need you to give me a chance to do that," Fitz insisted.

"Why, what chance did you ever give me? All my life I couldn't tell anyone about you because it was this big important secret, and lots of people would get upset. But it was okay for _me_ to be upset. Did you ever think about _that_?"

She stopped and swallowed hard as she shook her head at him in disbelief before continuing.

"I don't care what you think you've got going on with my mom, I want nothing to do with it or you. You're only interested in me now because of what's happened…" she said trailed off, looking at her mom, and then back at him accusingly.

"That's not true."

Camille just snorted and threw him a disparaging look. She turned her attention back to her mom and Camille's whole demeanor changed as she looked down at Olivia. Her shoulders relaxed and her eyes softened; and she smiled. Very carefully, she bent down stroking her mom's face and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"I'm just going to grab a soda, Mom. I won't be long… I'll be back soon. I love you," she said softly.

She looked back at Fitz and her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Just so you know, I'm here for my mom, _not_ you!"

Fitz stood in stunned silence as Camille turned and left. Tears were glistening in his eyes for the child he so desperately wanted to pull into his arms and comfort. But she clearly hated him. He wiped his face, as he recalled moments earlier, Camille recoiling from him, when he first approached her, and now she was making it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Her rejection broke him. He wanted to defend himself against some of her accusations but it was a delicate balancing act that required patience on his part. He badly wanted her to know his side of the story without tarnishing her relationship with her mother. He was the adult here, and had to take the high ground - moral or otherwise - giving her the space to say whatever she needed to get it out of her system.

Being Camille's father at this early stage would mean having to be patient and listen to some hard truths - until she was ready to listen to him. Having already been through similar scenarios with his other three children, about the state of his true relationship with their mother, Mellie, and their impending divorce when he finished his second term as president, Fitz would be prepared for Camille's fury.

Sadly, it did not stop her cold words and cut glass stares from ripping out his heart. For now, though, he was just going to have to 'suck it up' as his son Gerry would tell him. He let out another long sigh and turning to Olivia he leaned forward, carefully placing a gentle kiss on her bandaged forehead.

"Oh, Livvie," he whispered in her ear. "I hope you're feeling better today, and you weren't too upset with me. I tried with Camille, baby, I really did, but it's going to be a long road… a really long road. I love you so much." He reminded her, as he kissed her cheek. "I can't lose you. If ever I needed your help, it's now... to bring my daughter back me." He looked at his love but Olivia's eyes remained firmly closed.

Fitz knew that when it came to Camille he would have to do his own fixing.

When a shaking Camille left the room and stood standing in the sparse white corridor, she was shocked to see two tall muscular figures standing either side of the hospital door. After a confusing couple of seconds, Camille realized that both men were probably part of his security team, appointed to all former presidents for their protection. They were looking ahead in silence and Camille wondered if they'd heard the ugly exchange between her and her – with him. Don't let him get into your headspace girl! She thought, scolding herself. The quietness was disturbed only by hushed voices from two boys further along the corridor and she recognized his two sons Gerry and Teddy.

The sound of her Converse shoes occasionally squeaking down the pristine hospital floor, forced them to stop their conversation when they noticed her walking towards them – it was a weird moment for all three Grant children – and when she caught up with both brothers there were only neutral exchanges and silence. Camille slightly slowed but did not stop and carried on walking to the hospital coffee house to the only family she knew.


	5. Chapter 4 Girl on Fire

**Disclaimer:****_ I don't own 'Scandal'. I just like borrowing stuff from Shonda Rhimes._**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Girl on Fire**

_Everybody stands as she goes by_

_Cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes_

_Watch her when she's lighting up the night_

_Nobody knows that she's a lonely girl_

_And it's a lonely world_

_But she gon' let it burn, baby, burn, baby_

_This girl is on fire_

_This girl is on fire_

_She's walking on fire_

_This girl is on fire_

_Girl On Fire – _Alicia Keys

Camille was tapping her foot as she waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive. She kept her eyes firmly looking ahead, and a smile of relief appeared on her face when shiny steel double doors arrived and opened like a pair of welcoming arms. Once inside, she saw the lowest number was ten. It took her a moment to remember: she was using a private elevator, and when she arrived on the tenth floor, she would be escorted by security through a coded double door into the main public area. Pressing the button she took a few steps back, and shuddered feeling the cold metal steel against her hands. Arching her back so the crown of her head was almost touching the wall, she closed her eyes, as she relived their first conversation.

Her eyes fluttered when she remembered telling him exactly what he could do with his apologies and offers of love and family. Did he really expect her to believe a word he said? His screaming silence proved he never had any interest in being her father. His words were empty; his actions spoke volumes. He was in her life now, thanks to bad luck not lost love - so he could go straight to hell. This was a man willing to reject her - for what? Status! Power! And a place in history - that's what! Screw him. He'd already made his choice. Twelve years ago. Now she was making hers. It was a no-brainer.

Suddenly Camille furrowed her brows, and moaned softly. Pressing the palm of her hand into her chest, she began rubbing in a circular motion to stop it, to ease it, to make it go away. She'd been successfully ignoring it, right up until now. The dull ache in her chest: pounding, pulsating, steadily persisting. A physical reaction - she couldn't escape - gnawing away at her since the moment she first laid eyes on him.

She peeled back her eyes, and wearily shifted her head to one side, as her listless body jerked in time with the descending elevator.

An unsteady breath left her lips, and she tried hard to stifle a sob, but it was too late to stop a lonely tear roll down her cheek.

* * *

Standing in the open-planned café, Camille's eyes were busy scanning the patrons of mainly hospital visitors, with a sprinkling of night-gowned patients and uniformed staff chatting and drinking around small tables. Towards the end of the café, baristas were busy taking orders, and serving queuing customers.

She spotted a waving hand, and immediately recognized her Mom's former co-worker and friend, Harrison Wright. The handsome black man smiled and beckoned to her to come over. He looked for an empty chair, which he collected and placed round the table just as she was arriving.

Camille shot him a wide side-eye stare. Hooking a foot around the chair leg, she deliberately dragged the chair along the ground, making a scraping noise across the stone-tiled floor. She plonked herself down, so she was seated between him and Abby.

Purposefully ignoring everyone, she took her cell phone out of her sweatshirt pocket, and switched it on. The Gladiators all exchanged cautious looks, and with raised eyebrows, turned their focus back to the young girl.

"Hey Camille," Harrison carefully greeted her. "We're so sorry about your Mom's accident."

"We really are Cam, honey," said the brunette woman, sitting next to Huck. It was Quinn Perkins, the last of the Gladiators her mother employed at OPA.

"Uh huh," she muttered under her breath.

"You okay?" Abby asked brightly, flicking back her dead straight shoulder length red hair. "Huck said your Dad's here," she continued matter-a-factly, as though seeing him was an everyday occurrence.

"Oh right! Like you guys didn't know he was gonna show up, and gatecrash my mom's room. By the way, thanks for that - real nice!" Her head shot up and she looked icily at her table companions before returning to her phone.

Damn, she thought when she saw she had five missed calls from her Grandma.

"Cam, we're sorry, we didn't mean to throw you to the lions or anything," Harrison began to explain. "But your Mom's accident…well…we knew he'd be here…and there was no way you two could avoid meeting each other."

"He was the first to arrive at the hospital," added Quinn.

"He said he wanted to take care of everything, and to be fair, by the time we'd all arrived, he pretty much had," Harrison confirmed.

"So it's him paying for all of this: the hospital, the doctors and my flight here?" Camille asked pouting at him. He nodded at her with a faint smile.

"He asked us not to say anything…he was worried you wouldn't come if you knew he was on the scene."

"It's Mom and me that you should be worried about - not that loser," she said defensively, tapping her thumbnail over her phone screen.

"I told you we should've given her a heads-up before she got here," Abby scolded her friends.

"What and risk Cam not showing up at all?" asked Quinn. "No offence hun, but we had to play it safe."

"How could you play me like that? You set me up - it's totally out of order. I don't know what to say? My Mom would've freaked. You're unbelievable! I thought you guys were _my_ friend," she spluttered, shaking her head.

"Cam, of course -"

"I'm guessing it wasn't exactly a 'father-daughter' Kodak moment!" Abby said breezily, cutting across Quinn. "So what happened?"

Abby's arms went up on the table, elbows bent and hands resting under her chin, looking like she was about to hear some juicy celebrity gossip from _People_ magazine.

"Abby, come on…" began Harrison, looking nervously at Camille.

This woman goes full throttle every single time, he thought, rubbing his head with his index finger.

"Come on what? We all want to know, was he all like: '_Luke, I'm your Father_ '," she said in a bad Darth Vadar accent.

Camille's chin jerked back, and she fixed Abby with a confused stare.

"What?"

"You must've heard of _Star Wars_: Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader? It's a classic. Jeez you kids, you haven't got half a clue!" Abby light heartedly, tut tutted.

"The quote from the movie is actually: '_No. I'm your Father_'" mocked Harrison.

Abby made a face at him.

Camille gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, still mystified.

"What did he have to say?" It was the first time Huck had spoken.

Camille took a deep breath and sighed with frustration. She started playing with her hair, twirling loose curls around her finger and tugging at the same time, so she could feel sharp prickling sensations at her roots.

"Not much really, the usual verbiage for a Deadbeat Dad: sorry, sorry, and sorry again." she replied flatly.

"Verbiage," Abby repeated. She had always marveled at Camille impressive vocabulary for one so young. "And what did you say?"

"I told him to back off cos I'm not interested," she sniffed. Focusing on a curl she'd wrapped round a finger.

"That man is so arrogant, but I wouldn't expect anything less from a Republican," Abby shot back, rubbing Camille's arm sympathetically. Her dislike of republicans was well known among her friends and Camille.

"Do you want a soda or something?" enquired Quinn gently, aware that Abby was throwing fuel onto the fire.

Camille nodded and as Quinn was walking away, she called out her flavor choice. She took another deep breath, and went into a long exhale, dropping her head to the table. She started gently banging her forehead repetitively on the flat surface, causing cups, plates and cutlery to clatter noisily. Harrison scooted his chair closer to Camille, and placing his hand gently on her back, started lightly stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out so well with…him. But you know we love you, right? We're gonna to be here to support you and your mom through this."

Camille stopped her banging and rolled her head to look up at him blankly. Pulling herself up into a seated position again, she brushed her hair out of her face, and cleared her throat.

"I just want Mom to hurry up and get better, so we can go home."

"We all do, honeybee, we all do," agreed Harrison.

Quinn returned and handed Camille her soda. She thanked her as she expertly opened the icy can with one hand, and took a long drink.

"You okay to stay here for a minute?" She looked at Harrison from out of the corner of her eye, and nodded. Just then her phone started to ring, and she saw it was Grandma Pope. Taking a pause from her drink, she pushed back on her chair and answered her cell phone.

"Good evening, Grandma Pope," Camille said politely, but was making rolling eye gestures to the others, as she moved to find a more private spot to talk.

"Camilla, at last, you were supposed to call me when you arrived in California," Anne Pope scolded her granddaughter down the phone. She was currently vacationing in Italy with her long-term partner Donald Williamson, who Camille called 'Uncle'.

Camille's shoulders hunched up to her ears and her big brown eyes narrowed into slits. She clamped her lips together in a tight grimace. Barely holding back from exploding at her trigger word: 'Camilla' she sucked in her cheeks, and puffed out angrily.

"Sorry, I meant to call you," she said curtly. "I just got to the hospital myself…"

"So have you seen her yet? I called the hospital this morning, and was told…"

With her grandma chatting away, Camille began to make 'Mmm' responses as she maneuvered her way through occupied tables. She passed a young guy in a wheelchair laughing with friends, and the baristas' serving counter. Directly behind the serving station were more tables that backed on to a huge window. Camille thought it was a good place to stop.

Leaning against the glass panel, she stared out into the palette blue blend of evening shade that formed the perfect background to the contrasting brightly lit hospital grounds. She noticed the sprawling bottle-green lawn, lined with palm trees and sporadic bushes of flowers. Breaking up the immaculate grassland was a paved walkway, leading to the hospital entrance. She noticed there was still a steady stream of people coming and going.

"Camilla-Camilla, are you still there?"

"Uh huh…what? Y-yes, sorry, I'm still here."

"I was asking about your mother? I was saying, I called and spoke with one of the nurses, who told me she's recovering from the operation on a private ICU ward?"

"Yeah, I've just seen her, she's resting – I-er guess you could call it - in her room. S-she's got a broken leg, and…and she's on a ventilator t-to help with her breathing, and -" she stammered down the phone.

"Camilla, honey, I know it's upsetting for you, but try and stay strong. Donald and I are going to be with you soon enough. It's morning over here, and we're at Ciampino Airport, about to go through to the boarding area. It's a sixteen-hour flight, so all being well, we should be with you tomorrow – late afternoon. Who's with you now?" Camille sniffed loudly and cleared her throat.

"I'm with Abby, and my Mom's old work friends," she said drying her eyes with her sleeve. She heard her grandmother snort down the phone. "It's okay, I'm being well looked after."

"You need to be with your family at a time like this. I'm so cross with myself that we couldn't get on the earlier flight leaving from Naples yesterday, but being in Rome and the distance, we couldn't take the chance."

Camille took a deep breath and rolled her eyes.

"It's okay, Grandma, I-I'm fine."

"Is it true former President Grant's been to visit?"

"Er…uh-huh…"

"Camilla, you know I hate it when you mumble like that. Have you seen him? Do you know why?"

"I dunno - because he and my Mom use to work together?"

"I suppose that makes sense. I better go I need to pick up some medication for the flight. We were supposed to be flying from Rome to Berlin, so Donald could visit the Alliierten Museum. Did you know, during World War II, US Forces used it as a cinema - imagine that? And then, of course, we were supposed to fly from Germany back home to attend Donald's sister's seventieth birthday celebrations. Things haven't gone to plan," she said, almost to herself.

Camille breathing quickened and she began chomping down on her back teeth. Was her grandmother seriously trying to give her a history lesson in the middle of the biggest crisis of her life?

"Where are you staying?" she asked her granddaughter.

"I think I'm gonna be staying here with Mom," Camille muttered

"What did you say? Speak up, Camilla."

"I said I'm staying here," she almost shouted.

"Have you spoken to your Aunt Kimberly?"

"No, I'll do that next." She subconsciously began her two fingers sweep over her eye and eyebrow in a continuous motion.

"I already spoke with her this morning - apparently no airline will allow her to fly being eight and half months pregnant."

"Oh, okay, I guess that makes sense. But honestly Grandma, I'm cool to stay with Mom until you get here," she reiterated. But from her grandmother's long pause, Camille picked up she still wasn't happy with her stance.

"I suppose. I'll feel a lot happier once we arrive."

"You don't need to worry, if you saw Mom's room, it's huge, it looks more like a hotel room than a hospital one."

"Well if you're sure, I'll call you as soon we land. Make sure you keep your cell phone on. No point having a phone if all I keep getting is your voicemail. Besides, I thought that's all you young people did these days: talk on the phone or have your head buried in some computer. So keep it on."

"Sure, Grandma."

"Alright then, I'll say goodbye."

"Bye – oh, and Grandma?"

"Yes, Camilla?"

"I'm so not interested in hearing about war museums and parties when my Mom's lying in a hospital bed. And please _stop_ calling me Camilla - you know how much _I_ hate_ that_!" and she hung up. She'd pay for that later, but right now she didn't care too much about her abrupt ending, which would result in Grandma Pope accusing her of lacking manners. But sometimes she just said whatever popped into her head, and Camille just wasn't in the mood to appease every single comment she made – especially on a day like today.

How dare she treat her Mom's accident like an inconvenience - she really was a piece of work, thought Camille - as she searched for her Aunt Kimberley's number and pressed dial up.

* * *

Back at the table Huck had excused himself, leaving the other three to ponder Camille's meeting with her Father.

"She is not a happy bunny," Harrison commented, taking a gulp of his black coffee, and then screwing up his face.

"Ya think? We basically railroaded her into seeing him," Abby stated pointedly.

"What choice did we have? Olivia's accident changes everything. Camille and Grant…well…that was a meeting waiting to happen," he replied, pushing the coffee cup away, and tossing his used napkin in the saucer.

"It's been what twelve, thirteen years? He shouldn't have been allowed to just spring himself on her like that. It should've been on Cam's terms."

"Then it would never have happened. According to her Mom, she's been in 'angry bird' mode with him since forever."

"If you think she's mad now, can you imagine what she's going be like if she finds out we -"

"Quinn," Abby interrupted. "Let's be clear: this was Liv's choice. She didn't want Mr. President in and out of Camille's life, and that's a good enough reason for me. My concern has always been for my friend and her daughter, not some spoilt privileged brat, who thinks that every toy in the playground belongs to him."

"I have to say Abby, I'm surprise you managed to keep a lid on it, all the way from the airport, back here," Harrison joked at her, and she laughed dryly.

"Well, before we left, Huck promised he'd take me to a party, and not the 'bring a bottle' kind," she said, using her fingers as quotation marks. "More the 'bring black bags' variety - to help with the clean up," she finished with a thin smile.

Her eyes perked up when she spotted Huck returning to their table with a family-size bag of M&M's, which he proceeded to pop open. The others looked at him bemused, but continued their topic of conversation. After all it was Huck doing what he does best: confusing everyone.

"We were just talking about Camille meeting her father. Do you think we handled it right?" Quinn asked, making space for Huck's candy.

"Children want their parent's love regardless of who they are or what they've done - it's no different for Camille," Huck said.

"Thank you, Dr. Phil," Abby said mockingly, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at him.

"She'd better get use to him, because whether Olivia gets better tomorrow, next week, or next month, he's not going away," he added.

"He can't force himself on her. If he cares, he has to be patient, and take his time getting to know her…" Quinn trailed off. She was thinking about her own son, Julius and family.

Abby looked on in disbelief at the two of them.

"What do you think he's gonna do? Announce to the world he's her Long Lost Daddy? Please. Much as he likes to protest differently, it suited him to keep her a secret all these years. When he was President, he loved playing the morality card alongside his 'ultra bright' wife and 'photo-op' kids. And since his second term ended, I don't recall him banging down our office doors as frequently. Do you remember when he use to send his White House goons round every five minutes, with their search warrants and threats? He's reversed into complete absent father mode: the predictable birthday -"

"There are already reports on T.V. and in the _Santa Barbara Press News,_ about Grant visiting Olivia," Huck interrupted. It didn't stop him staying overnight, or wanting to meet Camille today," Huck finished, eyeing her sternly. He then went back to rearranging his chocolate candy on the table.

* * *

"AK, don't feel bad, Mom would totally understand," Camille was saying to her Aunt for the umpteenth time. 'AK' was her pet name for her Aunt Kimberly.

"I least I can say: I'm there in spirit," Kimberley Bonsra joked. "Oh, by the way, this afternoon, I went online to Pro Flowers, and placed an order for two dozen purple orchids, and the boys have also made special Get Well cards for her. They guarantee delivery for the next day, so she should get them tomorrow."

"Oh, that's really sweet - I'll look out for them. And say I said: 'hey' to Conner and Marley."

"I will honey, they'll be gutted they missed you, but I'll get them to give you a call or WhatsApp you later?"

"Okay…cool."

"Please give my big sister a kiss for me? And promise you'll look after yourself until your grandma gets there."

"I will."

"Can I have a word with Abby - just to make sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah…um, I would pass you over, but I'm not with her at the minute, and I've still got a couple more calls to make."

"No problem, I'll ring her…you look after yourself."

"I will. Speak tomorrow?"

"Of course, but if you need anything get in touch – no matter what? Okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you."

"You too, look after my cousin," Camille joked lightly, and her aunt laughed.

"I'm patting her as we speak…and letting her know her gorgeous cousin can't wait to meet her." After exchanging final goodbyes, Camille's next call was to Jessica. She let her know she had arrived safely and give her an update on her Mom's accident. She asked Jess to thank her family for having her, and the two friends discussed who Jess should contact on her behalf, with her best pal agreeing to update their mutual friends on Twitter and Facebook. Lastly, she dialed up Jake's number, but after a few rings it went to his voicemail.

"H-hi Jake…it's Cam, I know we've not spoken in a while, but please can you call me. It's Mom…she's had a bad accident…and she's in hospital, in Santa Barbara. I-um…could you just-please please call me? Thanks."

Pushing her cell back into her pocket, she looked despondently out of the window, gazing at the palm trees, and their leaves gently swaying. A faint smile crossed her lips as she thought about her message to Jake. She wished things had worked out between him and her Mom, for many reasons, one being, if Olivia were with Jake, she probably wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed in Santa Barbara.

From day one, Camille was completely enamored with the tall strikingly handsome orthodontist, with his easy-going nature and kind heart. She thought he was this cooler uncle and older brother rolled into one. On Jake's Watch she could relax from Olivia's military precision regime. He would allow her to indulge in her favorite junk foods and often took her to Wafels & Dinges restaurant - famous for their delicious desserts - where they'd both pig out on ice cream covered waffles, smothered in chocolate sauce. He played X-box games with Camille, and turned a blind eye when she watched the more risqué music videos of her favorite singers like Lady Gaga and Rhianna. Jake would also have her in hysterics, performing hip hop dance moves, to prove he was 'still down', as he would tell her, through her laughing tears. He took a genuine interest in Camille, and made her feel special like she was his own.

Camille constantly told her Mom how great she thought Jake was, and what a fantastic husband he'd make. Olivia would laugh kindly at her daughter, and didn't appear to balk at the idea. But she knew her mother well enough to know that as much as she cared for Jake, her heart just couldn't take her to that place of white dresses, babies and happy ever after.

Sighing ruefully about what might have been, she trudged back to the others. Approaching the table Camille's eyes widened in amazement, when she saw the word _SORRY_ spelt out in M&M's. Looking up she saw three clown-like sad faces smiling at her…and Huck. She broke into a half smirk. Sitting down in her seat, she began picking out the green ones.

"We are you know," said Abby, nudging her arm.

"I know…it's alright - but don't do it again!" she half joked, munching on her candy treats.

"You spoken to everyone you need to?"

"Uh huh…AK's gonna give you a call…her and Grandma are worried about me."

"No problem, I'll call Kim now," She got up to call her friend's sister, who she had known for as long as Olivia.

"You think you might wanna get something to eat? Not here, outside, be good for you to get some air?" Huck suggested to Camille.

"Sure. And hopefully by the time we get back, he'll be gone," she said moodily.

Suddenly Camille heard the song: _Get Lucky_ by Daft Punk and instantly pulled out her phone. A huge grin broke out across her face. The music stopped with the touch of her finger.

"Hey, Jake…"

* * *

_**AN: Big thanks and smiles for all the lovely comments about my story. Hard to know how a story without Olivia playing an active role would be received, so I appreciate your support. **_


	6. Chapter 5 Mad Men and Women

**_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'. I just like borrowing stuff from Shonda Rhimes._**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Mad Men and Women**

_Well I won't back down, no I won't back down_

_You can stand me up at the gates of hell_

_But I won't back down_

_Gonna stand my ground, won't be turned around_

_And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down_

_Gonna stand my ground and I won't back down_

_Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out_

_Hey I will stand my ground_

_And I won't back down_

_I Won't Back Down _– Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Camille and the Gladiators went to eat at a local Taco Bell and returned to the hospital just after nine o'clock. As most visitors had now left, the hospital had returned to a silent haven for patients. It almost felt like they were in church when they arrived back on the private wing, with their footsteps, the only sound to be heard down the dimly lit hallway towards Olivia's room. At the end of the corridor two staff members were talking in hushed tones. They stopped their conversation to wave and offer a friendly smile to the visitors, who returned their greetings. No-one else seemed to be around, and Camille took this as a sign that he had left with his sons and security team.

Re-entering Olivia's room there was a nurse Camille hadn't seen before. She dropped her doggie-bag from the fast food restaurant on the couch, and tentatively walked over to her Mom's bedside, doing her best to be near, but not get in the nurse's way.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, as the nurse took Olivia's left hand and placed a clip on her finger.

"Hello, you must be Camille Pope. Hi, I'm Nurse Allen. I'm just doing a routine check of your Mom's heartbeat and breathing…and this machine that I'm using is called a sphygmomanometer. It's for checking your Mom's blood pressure," she confirmed.

The nurse was switching between, looking at her fob watch and the dial pressure gauge on the machine. When she was satisfied with what she read, she turned and gave Camille a reassuring smile. "That's fine - all good."

She let Camille know that she'd informed the doctor she was back and excused herself.

Camille took a closer position to Olivia. She gasped, wrapping her arms around her waist, as she hunched forward. She felt like she had gone back in time - seeing her Mom for the first time – and trapped in a wordless pain that was pulling her down.

"H-he-hey Mom…I-I'm back," she stammered. Camille raised her hand and carefully pulled the sheet back so she could expose Olivia's left arm and began caressing her.

The rest of the Gladiators followed Camille's unspoken command, slowly congregating around Olivia's bed and greeting her with kind words.

There was a brief knock on the door and Dr. Ramen from earlier entered, and approached his patient and her daughter.

"Hello, again, Miss Pope," he said reaching out to shake her hand.

"Hello…" she greeted the doctor.

"I apologize for having to rush off earlier when you first arrived. I had to attend to an emergency in our Paediatric Department. As I've just been explaining to President Grant in more detail, sorry," he said smiling, as he shifted his glasses to hang more comfortable on his nose.

Camille instantly picked up on how proud he was to mention the former President.

"I mean Mr. Grant. Your mother's fall damaged her cerebral cortex - the part of the brain that controls our neurological functions: talking, hearing, seeing, et cetera, and this caused intracranial haemorrhaging i.e. bleeding. The operation we performed was to stop this bleeding, and allow the blood to reabsorb back into the skull. There's swelling and inflammation to the area, so the next few days and weeks will be critical to her recovery. We'll keep monitoring her regularly with MRI scans to check her brain function, and make sure she's comfortable. I'll be available, and there are two nurses assigned to your mom full-time, so she'll always have someone on hand attending to her.

"H-how did you stop the bleeding?"

"We use a well known surgical procedure called clipping, which is common for this type of head injury."

"Will it help?"

"We hope so. This operation has a lower rate of recurrence after treatment, it helps to reduce the risk of re-bleeding."

"So my Mom will get better?"

"With any coma patient, it's difficult for us to determine the outcome. It's all down to the individual. My team and I will do everything to ensure your mom's physical health needs are met to assist in her recovery," he explained carefully.

Camille nodded, and started chewing away at her ragged fingers nails.

"Miss. Pope The Santa Barbara Medical Hospital is renowned for its neurological practice, so you can rest assure, your mom, is in very good hands. I understand Nurse Allen was in earlier performing routine checks and everything was fine – is that right?" Doctor Ramen asked. Camille nodded.

"Excellent. I'll give you some privacy now, but I would ask that you and your friends give your mom an opportunity to get some rest," he kindly requested.

Abby moved to place a protective arm around the shaking shoulders of her favourite young person.

"Thank you doctor," Abby said politely, and turned to place a gently kiss on the side of Camille's head. "You hear that Cam? Your Mom has the best team looking after her. It's okay, it's going to be -" she stopped when Harrison shot her a firm 'no promises' stare.

"Do you know if Mr. Grant is still here?" Harrison asked the doctor, who was discreetly reading his pager.

"Yes, we were talking in my office, but he's outside now with one of his security team. Should I get him?" he asked.

Camille's shoulders instantly shot up to her ears and she looked worriedly at Harrison.

"No, I'll catch a word with him outside," he told the doctor, and winked at Camille as he left the room.

"Is it okay…that I want to stay here with my Mom?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Grant did mention that you might want to consider an overnight stay. We've already prepared the room, two doors down, for your convenience. There's also a communal area, if you take a left out of here, towards the reception area, go left again, and it's the third door on the right."

"Thank you," said a grateful Camille, rubbing her eyes to counteract the sudden burning sensation building behind her pupils.

"If you need anything please don't hesitate to speak with the nightshift team. You can call upon them anytime," he assured Camille. "If you'll excuse me, I'll say goodnight."

When Dr. Ramen left, the room fell into total silence. Quinn wiped a tear away and Huck mumbled something incoherent as he lowered his head. Abby closed the window blinds and adjusted the overhead light affixed above Olivia's bed head. The room became tranquil, except for the ventilator machine and heart monitor humming and bleeping sounds echoing around the room - a stark reminder of the tragic circumstances.

Returning to Camille's side and without touching her, Abby could feel the young girl's body trembling with fear. So once again, she placed a protective arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. Her eyes shifted from Camille, drifting to Huck, still with his head low into his chest, and to Quinn who was brushing away tears. Reluctantly her gaze fell on Olivia so quiet and still. She took a deep breath. She told herself she would not cry. She had to be strong for Liv and her baby girl.

Suddenly muffled voices could be heard from outside the room, and it was obvious some kind of altercation was taking place. Camille clenched her hands into small fists. Her chest was heaving and that dull ache was booming in sync with her heartbeat. She shrugged off Abby's arm, and stumbled away from Olivia's bed. She made it to the couch and sank into the leather seat. Pressing her fists into her temples, she began rocking herself back and forth, back and forth. Abby looked at Camille and pursing her lips together, hurried to the door. Quinn called out:

"Abby, just let Harrison handle -"

But she was already gone.

* * *

Seconds later Abby was standing beside Harrison, and facing a grim-looking Fitz and his head of security, Tom.

"She's upset and wants your boss to leave," she curtly informed the agent, folding her arms across her chest.

"I just wanted to -" Fitz began. He stopped to smile at a passing nurse, who was grinning and blushing furiously at the former President. He looked discreetly over his shoulder to see she was some distance away before speaking again. "As I was saying to your colleague, I want to have a word with Camille, and wish Livvie a goodnight before I leave," he quietly told Abby.

"I think you've caused enough upset for today - don't you?"

"I intend to be here for Olivia and Camille - whether I have your approval or not. Do you understand?"

"The only thing I understand is there's a little girl in that room terrified she might lose her mom. And I don't think she needs you appearing like some David Blaine illusion stressing her out."

"It's important Camille knows she has a family here that want to love and support her through this."

"You need to go back to your first family, and let the people who know and love her, take care of her," Abby bit back.

"Relax. No-one is trying to stop you from wanting to be here for Cam and Liv. All we're saying is: just not tonight," Harrison interjected.

"Do you know how _tired_ I am of being dictated to by you people? For years I had to put up with you stone-walling me at every opportunity concerning Camille. You've kept her away from me for long enough."

"Sir…" Tom warned his boss.

"You mind keeping your voice on the down low?" Harrison suggested, very much aware that all it took was one pair of sharp ears.

"This isn't up for a debate," Fitz said, taking his voice down to a deep growl.

"God, you really think the world revolves around you, don't you Fitzgerald Grant the Third? But this isn't about you, preppy-boy, this is about what Camille wants."

"You must be able to appreciate…it's been a tough day for her," said Harrison calmly.

"Unless your needs take precedence over the needs of a twelve year old child?" Abby sneered at him.

"Come back tomorrow, when things are a little more settled."

"Yeah, come back tomorrow. Besides, I can't imagine _Mrs. Grant_ is too thrilled about the amount of time her husband is spending with his former communications director," Abby finished sardonically.

Clenching his fists in his pockets, Fitz took a big step towards Abby so his nose was practically touching hers. His eyes narrowed, and in one blink, transformed from sparkling bright blue to cold metallic grey. But Abby didn't flinch and stood her ground, smiling out of the corner of her mouth.

"I don't know what you _think_ you know about my personal life, Ms. Whelan, but leave my wife out of this."

"That's right…you still like to keep a bit of vanilla on the side, or is that chocolate on the side? I can never quite keep up with you. I guess it all depends on what kind of a mood you wake up in – eh Fitz?" she blasted back with a wink.

"You're completely -" he began, but Harrison pulled Abby's arm and stepped in between the warring pair.

"Can we all just take a minute here, and agree that _we all_ want to do what's best for Camille?" Harrison reasoned, looking from Fitz to Abby. "And tonight, what she wants is… to be with her mom. And what she needs is… to be with the people she knows and trusts. Just…for…tonight. Please."

Taking a deep inhale, Fitz stepped back, exhaling in frustration.

"Do you comprehend soldier boy?"

He threw Abby a scathing look, and turned his attention to the most rational of the pair.

"My boys and I went shopping. We picked up emergency toiletries, clothes, iPad, Kindle, and a few other things we thought she might have forgotten, and need while she's here. It's all in the room Dr. Ramen's team has set up for her. If she needs anything else…?"

"No - she's fine. She's understandably in shock and upset. Her mom's accident and…meeting you…it's a lot for her to take in. She's also tired, and could probably do with getting some sleep. We're gonna stick around to make sure she's alright - okay?"

An awkward silence broke out as everyone waited for Fitz's response to Harrison's last statement.

Fitz's upper body was rocking back and forth. His hands were jammed so deep into his pockets he could feel the seams digging into his knuckles. He let out a long loud angry sigh - barely able to keep his temper under control. He was furious that after all these years he was still allowing Olivia's mad men and women to come between him and his daughter. It was obvious the Gladiator-duo weren't going to back down. Incensed as he was, he had to think about Livvie and what was best for her.

He had to remember: he wasn't exactly Camille's favourite person and getting into verbal battles with Abby and Harrison would push her even further away. Not something he could risk. There was also the media attention his presence was attracting since Livvie's admittance. So arguing in public - even on a private hospital ward - about a daughter no-one really knew existed, probably wasn't the smartest move.

"Fine, I'll go. But I'll be back first thing tomorrow morning. Please tell Camille, I said goodnight, and if she wants anything, she can call me day or night. Huck has my private numbers that he can pass onto her."

Turning his attention to Abby, his grey metallic eyes locked on her in a frosty glare that would've made a polar bear think twice before attacking.

"Against all the odds I become President of this great nation: not once, but twice. I've won back the love of my life: not once, but twice. I lost my daughter once, but I promise you, that will _not_ happen twice," he whispered icily, and he abruptly turned, marching away, with his agent in tow.

* * *

**AN: ****_My 'one-day/hospital' scenario happens over five chapters to set the scene. I'm new to this writing thang, so my editing skills are still a work in progress – LOL. Stay with me, the story does pick up in pace! Thanks for reading._**


	7. Chapter 6 Head2Head

**Disclaimer: I don't own '****_Scandal'_**** that honor goes to Ms Rhimes, and I don't mean Leann (Rimes).**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Head2Head**

_Mama, I love you, Mama, I care_

_I love you, Mama my friend,_

_Mama, I love you Mama, I care,_

_Mama I love you, Mama, my friend,_

_You're my friend, you're my friend_

_Mama I care, you my friend_

_Mama_ - The Spice Girls

"So what you're saying is, my Mom's just in a deep coma, but it won't make her recovery any harder?" Camille asked Nurse Rodriguez.

It was mid-morning. She was sitting up, crossed legged, on her make shift bed, with her iPad balancing on her bare legs, surrounded by drawing pads, pencils, brushes and paint palettes. She stretched her arms above her head, yawning, and letting out a loud groan to relieve the tension in her lower back. The couch she'd been sleeping on for almost a week was okay, but it was no substitute for a real bed. But Camille wasn't complaining.

"Correct. A patient in a mild coma can sometimes fail to improve, so mild or deep, it won't determine how she pulls through," the nurse confirmed as she finished replacing Olivia's intravenous drip.

Camille rubbed her eyes and then quickly slapped her hand down on top of her iPad to stop it slipping off her legs. Eyes fluttering, she watched Nurse Rodriguez and her colleague, Nurse de Coteau carefully lower Olivia's broken leg and remove the stirrups. The nurses positioned themselves either side of Olivia and began rotational exercises.

"How often do you have to do that again? I was reading somewhere it's every two to three hours?"

"Yes, that about right, we have to do it regularly to prevent bedsores-"

"And long-term muscular damage, which can happen with comatose patients who lay in one position for long periods," Camille finished.

Nurse de Coteau smiled, and Camille looked slightly embarrassed. Tapping the iPad, she had another question, about brain stems and damage to the reticular activating system, the part of the brain responsible for awareness, but held back.

"I'm sorry with all the questions," she said, as she looked down, and clicked through the various medical websites on head injuries and comas she had been reading during her overnight stays.

The nurses smiled at each other and Nurse de Coteau continued.

"It's natural to want to know about your Mom's condition…and with the internet these days, it's easier than ever. We won't lie, sometimes it can make our job harder. But you ask questions, and want to learn, rather than wanting to teach us, which we appreciate."

Camille smiled sheepishly as she pushed her hair behind her ear.

Looking around her messy bed, she carefully climbed up onto the couch and opened the window blinds. Camille shrunk from the glorious sunshine, beaming through the window, and lighting up the room like a beacon. Looking back slowly she stared out the window. It was another perfect day for sand, sea and sunbathing. But as Camille's viewed the Get Well cards and vases of flowers, decorating the room, she knew where she'd rather be hanging out.

"What are your plans for today?" asked Nurse de Coteau, as Camille jumped down from the couch, and started folding up her bed clothing.

"Mmm…probably gonna go for breakfast with Quinn, cos she's flying back to DC today."

"Did she spend the night with you?"

Camille nodded.

"And are your grandparents stopping by again?" she asked.

"Yeah, they should be here soon. So I better get moving."

"Tell me Camille, all these visitors this past week…what about your father, is he coming anytime soon?" asked Nurse Rodriguez.

Camille hand froze in mid-air. How did they go from her Grandparents to Dad in less than sixty seconds? She took a quiet breath. She dropped the half folded sheet. Without thinking she picked up clean and unused paintbrushes, and slowly walking over to the sink, she began running them under tap.

"Uh, I don't really see my Dad," she explained, as she rubbed her fingers intently over the bristles like they were heavily soiled. "He split from my Mom when I was a baby…and lives and works abroad with his other family."

Sort of a truth, but not really, thought Camille.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I wasn't trying to pry," the nurse assured Camille.

"Its fine - I'm used it."

"But you and your Mom are lucky to have family and good friends around, like former President Grant that must be nice for her and you?"

Camille gave a small smile but didn't comment.

"I see his wife visited with him yesterday?" Nurse Rodriguez commented.

Camille spun round, spraying water over her T-shirt and legs.

"What? Mrs. Grant was here visiting with my Mom?"

The nurse confirmed with a nod of her head and watched Camille carefully.

"Yes, she brought those flowers and card, she even brought cupcakes and a fruit basket for the nurses to say 'thank you'."

The nurse nodded in the direction of a lush bouquet of flowers adorning the cabinet.

Camille made a habit of reading all the heartwarming Get Well cards and notes sent to her Mom. But yesterday she'd been so consumed with her painting she didn't look at the flowers and cards that had arrived. The last card she read had been from David Rosen with a simple message: _Olivia Pope, You don't fool me. Wake up! David X._

Just as she was replacing the card, she got a call from Huck to say Fitzgerald Grant had arrived, so she dropped everything and cleared out. Pronto.

Drying her legs, her eyes were flickering over the numerous cards from family, friends, former clients and associates, trying to guess which one his wife had sent.

"Didn't you see her? She was here for a couple of hours, asking a lot of questions about your Mom's injury and progress. She was like a real Mother Hen – it was quite sweet, really."

Yeah, right, thought Camille, like she cares if my Mom gets better or not.

"No I didn't,' she replied neutrally. "I was out with my friends."

'You don't seem to be around much in the day when Mr. Grant's here."

"He's my Mom's old boss from ages ago…I don't really know him, and people like him talk politics all the time, it's gets kinda boring for me…" she trailed off.

Nurse Rodriguez hadn't been the only staff member being inquisitive about the former President and his daily visits to her Mom, but she always kept her responses short and brief. If anyone tried to delve further into the subject she was vague, and found it an effective tool for shutting down the conversation.

The official comment about his ongoing presence at the hospital stated Olivia Pope had been a long-time professional colleague and personal friend of the Grant family, and they were offering their support at this critical time.

"I better go take a shower and get ready," she said, turning off the taps.

There was a knock on the door.

"Camilla," she heard, as the door pushed open.

Oh God, thought Camille, Grandma Pope and she hadn't brushed her teeth yet. She smoothed down her hair, pulled her T-shirt down and put on a cheesy grin.

Through the door stepped a slim attractive elderly black woman wearing her silver speckled hair tight back in a bun. She was dressed in grey slacks and white shirt and looked immaculate. Camille greeted her grandmother with a warm hug to try and distract her from her messy appearance.

"Hey Grandma," she cooed.

"Good morning, Camilla, it's past nine o' clock and you're not washed and dressed." Anne Pope sniffed, kissing her Granddaughter's head, and in the process exchanging morning greetings with the nurses.

"Where's Uncle Donald?"

"I left him back at the hotel with that Huck gentleman. He's completely obsessed with his computers and gadgets - so I left them to it. How's she doing today?" Anne was staring at her daughter and walking tentatively towards her bed.

"She's doing fine. The doctor took another MRI scan around seven this morning," Nurse Rodriguez informed her.

Anne placed a shaky hand held on the bedrail for support. Her eyes glistened, she quickly blinked, and cleared her throat a couple of times. She gently placed a shaky hand on her daughter's bed.

"Good morning Olivia," she murmured softly.

"Grandma, do you want a glass of water?" Camille offered.

"Thank you, Camilla."

Camille poured and handed her grandmother a glass of water she got from the fridge. Anne took a sip.

"Have you eaten this morning?" she asked Camille.

"No, not yet, I was thinking of going to go to the Pinkberry! with Quinn. You can come if you want."

"Camilla, I'm really not happy with your eating habits or this sleeping arrangement of yours, especially when -"

"Grandma, please," she interrupted as her eyes darted from Anne to the nurses. "I'm going to get changed in the other room…I'll be back soon."

* * *

Closing the door behind her Camille let out loud sigh as she walked along the corridor with her wash bag and clothes tucked under her arm. Why did her Grandma have to bring up him? Wasn't bad enough that he was still hanging around, feigning interest in her Mom, and still bothering her.

Every time Fitz visited with Olivia, he left Camille handwritten cards letting her know that she was still welcome to come home with him. There was a credit card in her name so she could purchase whatever she needed, and small practical gifts, reminding her that he was thinking of her.

But Camille ignored all his advances. She had her family and friends. Although Uncle Stephen and Jake had been delayed due to their work commitments. Quinn had to return to her young son and family, and Grandma Pope would be flying to Atlanta in two days. But that was okay, because Huck, Abby and Harrison were staying put.

She'd never dreamed she'd be spending her summer vacation at a hospital. But she was doing it. She was happy to spend time with her Mom talking to her and encouraging her to get better. She chatted with friends online. She was painting, and had recently completed a watercolor painting of the orchids AK had sent. She hung out in the communal area reading, or watching television with her Mom's visitors.

Camille knew things weren't perfect but she was doing her best without Fitzgerald Grant.

* * *

Anne Pope was sitting next to Olivia's bedside. She started thinking about her daughter, the precocious young girl growing up in Chicago. Bursting with energy, always so talkative, inquisitive, buzzing around, Anne could barely keep up with her. Now to see Olivia, lying so still, passive, quiet, and breathing through tubes, she felt like a million needles were hurtling through her heart at breakneck sped.

Mother and daughter were not close. Olivia had been a Daddy's Girl through and through. So when Alistair Pope died from a sudden heart attack, the teenage Olivia became inconsolable, and consumed by her own grief, she internalized and withdrew from her family, becoming obsessed with her studies and career. She won a place a Harvard, and finished top of her class. After graduating, she moved to New York, and the distance between Mother and Daughter grew from emotional to physical. But Anne loved her daughter. No matter what had happened in the past or had transpired over the past few days, she would swap places with her in an instant if asked to.

She broke from her thoughts, when she heard knocking at the door. She assumed it was Camille returning from her shower.

"Camilla, is that you? That was quick," she called out.

"No, it's Fitzgerald Grant."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and jumped in seat.

Anne watched the former President enter and smile warmly at her. She didn't know why she was so surprised to see him. She'd seen him everyday since her arrival, and dined with him and his two sons at his ranch a couple of nights ago. But she couldn't help it, it every time she saw him it felt surreal.

"Good morning, Mr. Grant, please come in." She stood up and shook his hand formally, before returning to her seat.

"Good morning, Anne, and please call me Fitz," he reminded her. She responded with a small smile, her eyes following him as he approached Olivia.

She stared in a mixed state of emotions as he began caressing her daughter's face. Carefully leaning in to kiss her delicately on the forehead and brushing his lips against her cheek. He was whispering to her and smiling.

"Sorry, I have this little mantra when I first see her," he explained to a bemused Anne.

"Of course..."

"Where's Camille?"

"She went to the other room to shower and change. I must say, Fitzgerald, I'm still not happy, not happy at all about her staying here. I understand my daughter's condition is serious, and Camilla feels this compulsion to stay close by, but this can't be good for a near teenage girl."

"Yes, I agree with you, but she's adamant she wants to remain here with Olivia. I've been trying to speak to her, but as you know she's refusing to have anything to do with me..." he trailed off, feeling rather sheepish. "The issue of my relationship with Livvie, it's a lot for her to process at the moment. And meeting me for the first time…I have to take things at a slow pace, you understand."

"Mr. Grant - Fitzgerald, no matter the circumstances, you have to make her listen to you. Camilla cannot be allowed to dictate to you through her anger. She's always been so willful, a headstrong girl, just like…"

"Her Mom," Fitz finished, with an apologetic smile. Anne Pope looked at her daughter teetering on the brink of life.

"Yes, stubborn and headstrong like my Olivia." She pursed her lips together, and quickly covered her mouth in an attempt to stop the quivering sensation rippling through her.

Fitz slowly walked over to Anne and knelt down in front of her, placing a hand on her arm. She stiffened at his touch. But as he began gently patting her arm, her shoulders relaxed, she instantly felt comforted by his strong soothing touch. Fitz reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a clean handkerchief and offered it to her.

"Thank you. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Anne," he said remorsefully. "I'm sorry about Liv's accident, and sorry you had to find out about our relationship in the manner you did. Introducing myself to you in a telephone call, and telling you about Livvie and me - I can promise you - was never part of the plan. I want you to know I never meant to hurt or embarrass you or your family in any way."

"It's funny, you know, a few years ago when we were celebrating Christmas at my youngest daughter's Kimberly's house, I overheard a conversation she was having with Olivia about America's Pastor Marvin Drake, and his sad passing. We knew that Olivia was working on behalf of his family, we saw her on television, sitting in a pew at the back of the church, next to a small boy that looked... anyway, the conversation started innocently enough, but led to them talking about extra marital affairs and mistresses. She actually asked Olivia outright if you had anything to do with Camilla," she said, looking sternly at him. "I, of course thought she was crazy, but obviously Kimberley's sisterly intuition was clearly something we should all have been paying attention to."

Fitz took a deep breath and smiled awkwardly at Anne Pope.

"I take it everyone here at the hospital, is still in the dark?" she asked, carefully drying her eyes.

Fitz nodded.

"No-one knows except close family and friends. Which, under the circumstances, we'd like to keep that way, until Livvie's…better," he explained.

"I understand Mrs. Grant visited with you yesterday?"

"Yes, Mellie flew in from The Hamptons early yesterday morning. As you know, the media have been speculating about the amount of time I'm spending here, so she thought she'd come and show her support. We have this agreement -"

"Yes, you mentioned it the other night,' she interrupted, briskly. "Aren't you worried if people start putting two and two together?"

"To be perfectly honest with you, no," he said looking over at Olivia. "I couldn't be anywhere else than beside my Livvie…and Camille…when she's ready of course."

"Well, as I said to Donald the other night, at least we can stop pretending Camilla's father is some random stranger my daughter shacked up with or whatever the term is these days," Anne said sternly. "But this isn't how I raised my daughters to embark on affairs with married men."

"I respect your views Anne, and I can assure you meeting and falling in love with your daughter was the last thing I expected. We both tried to fight our feelings for a long time. But the truth is we are deeply in love with each other. Your daughter is my whole world, and I never want to be without her in my life."

Anne was almost speechless to hear former the President telling her how much he loved her daughter and couldn't live without her.

"Mr. Grant, Fitzgerald -"

Suddenly the door flung wide open and Camille appeared wearing a simple Abercrombie & Fitch blue summer dress, decorated in tiny roses, and ballet pumps, she'd purchased on a recent shopping mall trip with Abby and Quinn.

'Oh!" she gasped in surprise. How? What? Why? She blinked hard, several times, eyes darting round the room, nervously.

Fitz stood up and slowly turned to her. His eyes twinkled softly at her, and a warm smile slowly crept across his face as his heart skipped a beat gazing upon his beautiful daughter.

"Good morning, Camille, it's good to see you," he said in a friendly tone.

'I didn't see your bodyguards," she accused him.

"Camilla, it's good morning," her Grandma reminded her firmly.

"Good morning. I didn't see your bodyguards."

"Good morning," Fitz repeated. "They're meeting with the hospital security team, in the communal area," he explained.

She gave a brief nod of the head.

"You look well…California obviously agrees with you. Did you see the cards and credit card I left you to go shopping with?"

She shrugged her shoulders, and nodded, as Anne looked on, perplexed at the interaction between the pair.

He shifted his gaze to Olivia's bedside table and pointed to the hand painting, propped up against a water jug.

"I hear you did this? I saw it yesterday, the watercolor painting of the purple orchids your Aunt Kimberley sent? It's fantastic. I didn't know you were such a talented artist."

She gulped a couple of times, and swallowed involuntarily, but didn't say anything, so Fitz continued.

"Your grandmother was just saying you hadn't eaten this morning. Could I take you for breakfast?"

"Are you for real? I don't think so."

"Camilla! This is your father speaking to you," Anne scolded her.

"Grandma, please stop calling me that. And stop calling him _that_. My name's Camille and his name is Fitzgerald," she said coldly.

"Camilla, we've had this discussion numerous times, and your name is not the issue, and whatever you think, this is your father," her grandmother continued.

Fitz raised his eyebrows in shock that Anne was coming to his defence so readily.

"I don't know him."

"Camilla!"

"Anne, it's fine," Fitz began.

"No, Fitzgerald, it is _not_ fine." Turning to her granddaughter. "How do you expect to know him, if you stubbornly refuse to even acknowledge him? This is a difficult time for all of us, Camilla, and you acting out like some five-year old brat isn't helping."

"You didn't know he was my so-called father until a couple of days ago. What if you'd found out that he was a crack head or drug dealer, would you still want me to show him respect? But the President's Daughter, that's something you can boast about to your friends at your Book Club, or bridge meetings, or whatever it is you old people do," Camille said spitefully.

"How dare you, speak to me like that, Camilla Carolyn Pope, I know this isn't how your mother raised you. She would remind you about showing some respect when you're in the presence of your elders."

"Okay, with all due respect, can I go?" Her tone indifferent, bored.

"_May_ I be excused? Sometimes it's hard to believe Millwood House allowed you to skip a year." Anne rebuked her.

"_May_ I be excused?" Camille asked sarcastically.

"I think you better had, and don't come back until you find your manners," she called out after her granddaughter, as she stormed out.

Anne was fumbling with the handkerchief.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I don't know what to say? I-she- she's never spoken to me like that before. I-I'm I'm in shock," Anne stammered out.

Fitz took a deep breath.

"I don't think that was meant for you. She obviously didn't know I was here. It's my fault she's behaving like this."

Fitz stared at the space Camille had just vacated. He sighed heavily, as though he was holding up the universe with his pinky finger.

Being rude to him was one thing, he thought, now she was sassing her Grandmother?

The time had come.

* * *

Back in the hallway Camille saw his two security aides were standing either side of the door. Her head dropped into her chest, worrying, if yet again, they'd overheard her arguing with him. She hated how his presence could send her into such an anxious state. She was jumpy, jittery and a jackass, all at the same time. And it was his fault. She would be fine, okay, alright, except for him! Why couldn't he just go and never come back.

"Hey, Cam, honey," a voice called out to her.

"What?"

She looked sharply to her right and saw Quinn looking taken aback, as she was closing the door to her room.

"I'm sorry," she immediately said. "I'm sorry," she repeated, and exhaled wearily. "He's in there with my Grandma, and it's just…he..."

Quinn smiled kindly at her.

"Shall we go for a therapeutic smoothie?" she asked empathetically.

Camille returned her smile, with a shamefaced nod of her head.

"Before we leave, let me go say morning to your mom and grandma, okay?"

"Okay, I'll meet you downstairs in the foyer. I need to get out of here."

* * *

Camille and Quinn were nursing their drinks as they sat on white stools around the bar at Pinkberry! Being late morning the place was fairly quiet. They'd been sipping their blueberry smoothies for the past ten minutes and thinking about recent events, in particular her latest bust up with her grandmother and Fitzgerald Grant.

"It feels like Christmas doesn't it?" Camille blurted out, putting her half finished drink on the shiny clean surface.

Quinn furrowed her brows at her somewhat confused.

"In this bright sunshine? If I'm honest, not really."

"Okay, what I mean is since Mom's accident, friends and family are turning up like you do at Christmas - even the people that you don't like - but there's no presents and people stuffing themselves stupid, just me, asking for a miracle for my Mom."

"Cam…"

"But there's no miracle. Just him. And now Grandma Pope is all like: he's your father show some respect. Can you believe her?"

"Good manners are important to your grandmother."

"Yeah…so glad she's leaving in a couple of days," Camille sulked.

"You don't really mean that. She loves you very much. You can see how worried she is about Liv and you. I know she's stressed out about how this will affect you- both of you – if it ever comes out he's your father." Quinn told her softly.

"You mean what it'll do to her standing in the community, and what people will think of her."

"No, I mean she's worried because she loves you in that logical way she has about her. Do you want people to know he's your dad?"

"No," shot back Camille "I don't. Not now. Not ever. He's never cared about me before. And all this - what he's doing – it's just pretend."

"Cam…it's been what? A week? And he's been at the hospital every day with Liv… he's not been put off by a few persistent photographers or reporters hanging around. He wants to be with Olivia, and I think he wants to be with you too."

"He's not here for me."

"No? So what's with all the invitations to stay with him and your brothers?"

"Abby says that he's always been about image and making himself look good that's why he hired my Mom," Camille finished dryly.

"Cam, I love Abby, but when it comes to your dad, she's not the most…can I just say, Abby's got a lot of issues that make it difficult for her to see the whole picture. I know how much she loves and feels protective of you, but she's letting her own personal feelings rub off on you, and it's having an adverse effect on how you feel about your dad."

"You're saying she's wrong?"

"I'm saying that sometimes when we're hurting, it's hard to see the past that hurt. I know the importance of both parents playing an active part in a child's life. I was close to my father, but a few years ago, something happened – I won't bore you with the details - and he drifted away from me. It tore me apart. So when I see you being so angry, and don't get me wrong, you've ever right to be angry… I also see a desperate man… wanting to make amends. If you let this divide between you two grow, you could get to a point where it's maybe too late."

Quinn looked at Camille seriously.

"I know, he hasn't always been there for you, but there are reasons for that. I can't explain…maybe he can or can't either, right now, I don't know, what with Olivia being... so ill. But I think you need to let him in. Give him a chance."

"I'm sorry Quinn, but what good reason could he have for rejecting me, his own child?" she asked, making stabbing motions with her straw. "That's right, we all know the answer to that one, don't we?" she spat out bitterly.

"Do you think that maybe he didn't have a choice?"

"He had a choice -"

"No, what I'm saying is -"

"It's perfectly okay to ignore your child, especially if she's born out of wedlock, she's black, and you're the President."

"On, Cam, honey -"

"It's okay, Quinn, just because we have a First Lady who wraps her hair at night in the White House, doesn't change what a lot of people think."

"Things are not perfect, but change comes slowly… last year's election proves that. What I'm trying to say to you is… this is a major thing happening in your life, for both you and your dad. It's a long process, and you both need to be patient with each other, and take small steps."

"I –I can't…" she said shaking her head, and focusing intently on a menu. "I can't forgive him for what he's done to my Mom…I don't care about me so much, it's Mom-he…he broke her. I hate him," she ended abruptly, blinking fast.

"Honey, you don't know him."

"Okay, what I do know about him, I hate."

"Cam, adult relationships are complicated. And this one between your mom and dad has just about kept people on the right side of sane. But honestly, I believe he genuinely cares for you and your mom. A lot of men in his position could've walk away, but he's chosen to take this opportunity to reach out to you, what have you got to lose? Mmm? You never know, you may end up enjoying one of the best relationships of your life. Have you heard that old saying: _better late than never_."

She gave Camille a friendly nudge.

"Yeah, I've also heard: _out of sight out of mind_. Which I think aptly applies to him," she replied, shooting a wide-eye stare at Quinn.

"You are too much like you mom…"

"Is that a bad thing?' she asked dryly.

Quinn threw back her head and laughed out loud.

"No, that's not a bad thing," she said, as she snuggled up to Camille briefly.

"So it's my last day what do you want to do? Fancy some retail therapy, we could drive to Paseo Nuero…?" she offered, thinking back to how much fun they had at the shopping mall a couple of days ago. "My last chance to do some girly stuff: manicures, facials, before I'm back to a testosterone-filled household," suggested Quinn.

"Sure…why not. Grandma Pope did tell me not to come back till I found my manners. I think I may've left them in the Anna Sui Department at Saks."

Quinn shook her head, with a wry smile.

"C'mon you - let's go."

* * *

Quinn and Camille spent an enjoyable few hours together at the busy shopping mall. As Camille weaved in and out of stores, she soon forgot about her troubles with him. She knew she had to speak with her Grandmother about her behavior. Feeling embarrassed she visited a bookstore and purchased _Mom, Me & Mom_ by Maya Angelou and a World War II book she could give to Uncle Donald.

Later on in the day, they met up with Abby, Huck and Harrison. They had a late lunch and talked about her Mom's recent visitors from DC but the Grant subject was off the table. After their meal, they headed back to the hotel so Quinn could collect her luggage.

During her hotel visit Camille asked about her grandparents at reception, and was informed they'd left a message saying they'd gone out, and wouldn't be back till later that evening. She thought about sending a text, but realized that was not a proper apology. She'd wait till later or the morning.

Quinn wanted to say a final goodbye to Livvie so they made their way back to the hospital. On arrival Huck did the usual checks and discovered Fitz was still with her Mom.

"Can you find out what time he's leaving?" she asked Huck as he, Quinn and Harrison made their way to the elevator. Huck nodded.

She and Abby left the trio and went to wait in the ground floor hospital canteen. About an hour later Quinn and co. rejoined Camille and Abby and they all left for the airport.

The goodbye was a tearful one between Camille and Quinn. Okay, so she didn't agree with a lot of what her friend had to say, but it did make her think. Quinn promised she'd call every day and do her best to fly back soon.

"You know you can call me -"

"Anytime, I know," said Camille, with her arms wrapped tightly around Quinn's waist. "Thank you for everything."

Quinn kissed the top of her head.

"My pleasure, and look after yourself, sweetie."

"I will."

She bent down and whispered in her ear.

"Remember, don't let what's happened in the past dictate your future."

After saying her final goodbyes to her fellow Gladiators, Quinn made her way to her boarding gate. They watched and waved until she showed her passport to one of the TSA agents and disappeared out of sight.

Camille spent most of the journey back with her head buried in her cell phone, playing one of her favorite app games, _Candy Crush_. She had just completed level twenty-nine when they drove into the hospital grounds, just after eight thirty pm. Feeling pleased with herself, she texted Jessica and a couple of other friends to boast about her latest achievement. Harrison was parking his rent-a-car when Huck's received a text message.

Looking at his phone, Huck rubbed his forehead.

"What's wrong?" asked Abby.

"Camille, it's Grant, confirming he's still here… and staying the night." Huck informed her.

"What?' she cried incredulously. "Why? What does his text exactly say?"

"It says: 'Huck, I'm spending the night with Olivia. Please let Camille know I'd love her to join me so we can spend some time together. Fitz.'"

"That's what he thinks," Camille muttered angrily, getting out of the car.

"Cam, do you want me to come with you?" Abby asked.

'No, I'll be fine," she said slamming the car door.

* * *

**AN:****_ Thanks for all the gracious comments. You like reading my story; I like reading your reviews, so it's a win win all round! Well Camille's getting her own way, and looking after Liv at the hospital. Good to see some folk have got Fitz's back, don't you think? Love to know your thoughts. Happy reading to all Gladiators. (-;_**

**_PS There is a back-story (much later!) on how Fitz discovered he was Camille's father. _**


	8. Chapter 7 Man of Steel

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'… only in my dreams.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Man of Steel**

_It's too late to apologize._

_It's too late._

_I said it's too late to apologize._

_It's too late._

_ I said it's too late to apologize, yeah (too late)!_

_I said it's too late to apologize, yeah (too late)!_

_Apologize_ – Timbaland featuring One Republic

Standing between his two pillar-like security guards, Camille nervously licked her lips before knocking on the door.

"Come in," Fitz called out to her.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and entered.

As she came through the door, she glanced over at him lying comfortably with his legs up on the couch, his head resting on his bomber jacket and balancing a book in one hand.

The second he saw her his eyes' glazed over, and breath hitched in his throat. He swung his legs off the couch and moved into a sitting position. She'd caught him off guard looking so much like Livvie. He'd give anything to be able to go over and grab her in a bone-crushing hug, and plant a kiss on her forehead – like he does with Karen - but he remained seated.

"Hey… I was just reading poetry to your mom," he greeted her warmly. "Something your grandfather use to do when she was little," he ended with a smile.

Camille ignored him. She walked straight over to her mom, and bending down carefully, gently kissed Olivia's cheek.

"Hey, Mom…" she began softly. "Sorry I've been away for so long… but I'm back now… your honeybee's back, okay?"

Their faces were inches apart, and she let her fingertips gently caress Olivia's sleeping face.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?" she asked, gently brushing her thumb across her mom's eyebrow.

"Of course…"

"Not here, in the other room."

"Sure," replied Fitz, taking a deep breath and getting to his feet.

* * *

Camille held the door open for him and he thanked her as they entered the visitor's bedroom. He closed the door firmly, and put his hands in his pockets. The room was furnished similarly to Olivia's except there were no monitors.

Camille took a position by the bedside table, furthest from him.

Fitz started again, with the pleasantries, thinking it might create a less hostile atmosphere.

"How's your day been? Huck said you guys just got back from taking Quinn to the airport?"

"You're supposed to have left, already."

Okay, she's in high octave gear, thought Fitz.

He exhaled deeply.

"I'm staying the night, Camille."

"No you're not."

"Yes. I am."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything, Camille, I want to be with Olivia, and I'd like to spend some time with you."

"She doesn't need you and neither do I. We agreed that I would stay."

"No, Camille, this whole plan has been your idea from the start. I went along with it to give you a chance to get your head around your mom's accident, and our situation. But it is clear Livvie could be unwell for some time, and this current arrangement can't go on."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning as your father I have a responsibility to take into consideration your immediate welfare."

"I thought 'welfare' was a dirty word to you Republicans."

Still firing off the smart remarks, thought Fitz, fine.

"I've been speaking with your grandmother and aunt. They both agree you need a proper living environment, and this isn't it."

"I don't give a damn -"

"Camille -" he warned.

"I don't give a _damn_," she repeated venomously, "what my Grandma and Aunt think - they're not me. I don't need some pseudo father coming to rescue me."

"Look, we all know how devoted you are to your mother, and how much you hate me."

She tipped her head at him in agreement.

"But it's not healthy for you to be living like this: sharing your mom's hospital room and sleeping on a couch night after night."

"You've done it - stayed overnight in her room."

"Camille, I'm an adult and you're a child – don't even begin to compare the two of us. You should be getting a good night's sleep at home in bed."

"I don't want -"

"This is not about what you want, it's about what's right. I've played your game for long enough. It's time for me take care of you - at least until Livvie's back with us. Please. Let me do this for you. There's already a room prepared for you at the ranch, and I've been speaking with Huck about collecting anything you need from New York."

"You've got no right trying to organize my life behind my back. I keep telling you: I'm not leaving. You'll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming!"

"If that's what I have to do, then that's what I'll do."

"You touch me, and I'll call Child Services, and have you arrested for assault!"

"Good luck with that."

"_Really?_ You would risk causing a scene. _Right!_" she sneered harshly.

"It's not the first time one of my children has threatened me with Child Services. And to date, not one of them has ever been able to make the charges stick."

"Do you know how many times I wish -"

"I wasn't your father?" he sighed regretfully, taking small steps towards her. "Yeah, I got that, but I am, and no amount of stamping your feet is going to change that one important fact. _I am your father_, not Huck or Harrison or Stephen."

"You forgot, Jake," she told him all saccharine sweet.

Fitz froze in his tracks. His chin jerked back into his chest and his jaw double flexed as he swallowed hard. His eyes furrowed at her suspiciously. He didn't want to ask but his morbid curiosity got the better of him.

"Who's Jake?" He tried to ask casually, but his voice sounded tense.

"Jake dated my Mom for about a year when we moved back to New York. I spoke to him on the day I arrived, he's flying out as soon as he can."

"He's coming to Santa Barbara?"

"Yep."

Fitz couldn't quite process what Camille was so gleefully telling him. Olivia had never mentioned this Jake guy. Not once.

"You think it's clever, calling one of your mom's old boyfriends and inviting him out here?"

"I haven't done anything wrong. He's my friend and he cares about my mom. Anyway, you're an ex-boyfriend, and you're here all the time, so what's the difference? The only difference I can see is, I actually like Jake and I want him around."

Fitz stumbled back from her like he'd been hit by a juggernaut. Her last few words ripped him apart like a lioness devouring her prey, she was literally tearing out his guts, and leaving him blooded and gasping for life.

Oh, this was sweet, thought Camille, smirking at his shell-shocked face, Mom never told him about Jake.

"He's pretty cool actually," she continued in a cocksure manner. "You should add Jake to your list of men I shouldn't mistake for being my Dad, and while you're at it, put his name at the top. What a shame you can't include yourself."

Fitz was momentarily grateful when she broke eye contact. It gave him the chance to quickly blink away tears that had formed in his eyes, like rolling waves, ready to come crashing to the surface.

Camille was bending down, and reaching under the bed. She pulled out the flower-decorated gift box he left for her days ago.

"This belongs to you," she declared, dropping the box on the bed. His upper body twitched, and he cleared his throat.

"Come on... Camille - this is ridiculous - can't you just accept that I brought these gifts for you in good faith?"

"You've never brought me anything before, so why now, because you feeling guilty for treating me worse than a dog?"

"Camille, you don't understand –"

"_No!_" she yelled at him. "Answer the question: do you think this," she continued, stabbing her index finger at the box, "makes up for all the missed Birthdays and Christmases I never shared with you, or the presents I never got from you?"

He took a stuttering gasping breath. He tried to speak, but as he opened his month his tongue was rooted to the back of his throat, and blocking his air passage.

"What? Nothing to say?"

Fitz bowed his head.

What could he say?

"Wow! I don't believe it? You. A former President, and you're stuck for words? I bet when it comes to your other kids you can talk anyone under the table."

Fitz raised his head, and winced, looking her directly into her deep tortured-filled brown eyes.

"Camille, I never forgot about you. I remembered you and wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holiday, every time."

"I guess I didn't hear you too well over all the excited screams coming from Karen, Gerry and America's Baby."

"Camille, how can I make you understand, if you won't listen to me, and don't give me a chance, to prove you're wrong about me."

"Because everything you said, or should that be _didn't say_, twelve years ago is still ringing in my ears. But I'll tell you what I do hear, I hear the words: affair, married man, mistress, illegitimate, out of wedlock, scandal, black -"

"_Don't!_" his gut-wrenching cry begged her.

Camille jerked back in surprise at the tone of his voice.

"Whatever you're about to say, please…don't."

Camille was briefly stunned into silence. But that didn't stop her blazing brown eyes shooting fiery sparks directly into his teary blue pools of shame. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't stop, painful and shocking as the view was. He had to meet her eye to eye, and face her charges against him head-on.

"It haunts me everyday - more than you can ever imagine - the pain I've caused you. No, these gifts can't make up for missing you on special occasions, and they were never supposed to. I wouldn't insult you by trying to buy you. I'm trying to earn the right to be your father."

"You can't. It's too late."

Silence engulfed the air as her words divided them like a deep valley ridge.

"I'm sorry you feel this way... and I'm sorry it's taken your mom's accident to bring us together. But I hope that in time you'll see my intentions are coming from here…"

Fitz took his deepest saddest breath, and slowly placed the palm of his hand over his heart.

"Camille, I love you, you're my daughter, you are the purest expression of my love for Olivia, and never being a part of your life, until now, is a regret that I will personally carry, through every life I live. I can see you're hurting and you're angry. But I can't begin to 'right the wrong' I've done to you, if you keep pushing me away. There is no-one or no thing forcing me to be here, with you and Livvie, I love you, you're my family… I want to look after you."

He took a softer breath as he watched her intently.

"I want to be your Dad… if you'll have me?" he whispered to her.

He was smiling faintly at her, his eyes searching for a sign that maybe his words had dented some of the ironclad amour she had built around herself.

But she remained tight-lipped, and glared contemptuously at him.

He lowered his head, and took a deep inhale, and exhaled slowly rising up to meet her fierce expression.

"I'm going back to your Mom's room, and I'll be there for the rest of the night. I would love you to come and join me. I think it could be a very special moment… the three of us… together."

"_Aarrghh!_" she screamed.

He instinctively squinted his eyes against her high-pitched cry.

Grabbing the box, she turned it upside down, and threw the contents on the floor in front of him. Camille started kicking the messy pile of clothes, pens, pads, cards and bottles of bath products. Anything and everything was under attack from her new found soccer skills. Spotting the iPad box, and ignoring everything else, she stamped down hard on the small package, and performed a stunning back kicked, so hard, the box hit the wall and bounced back, spinning frantically towards her, smacking against her foot, and finally, ending her destructive response to his impassioned plea.

Pushing wild strains of hair from her crimson face, she gasped and gulped, in short, sharp bursts, desperate for air to fill her lungs.

Fitz looked on impassively at her, still and calm with his hands resting in his pockets. His breathing was relaxed and silent to the point of being Zen-like.

"You done?" he asked her quietly.

Out of breath. Out of words. She was done.

"Okay, this is what's going to happen: you, are going to write a letter of apology to your grandmother, regarding how you spoke to her this morning. I will go and explain to the nurses you had an accident in here, and you, _and_ _only you_, will clean up this mess. On Friday, that's four days from now, you will pack up all your things and be ready to leave."

Her mouth dropped open.

Wordlessly, grappling to speak, she couldn't, because everything was jumbling up, and sounding like gobbledygook in her head.

He menacingly raised one eyebrow at her, daring her to challenge him.

Her mouth shut like a trap.

"If you refuse," Fitz continued, "I will speak to the hospital's Head of Security and Management teams, and make sure your access to this part of the hospital is limited to specific times. That's right, you will see your mom at prearranged times that won't include any overnight stays.

"You think I'm being cruel, threatening to keep you from visiting your mom? But I know you've been reading up on Livvie's condition, and you're aware that with her type of injury, she requires a peaceful environment. Do you think your little hostile-winning performance this morning helped? I didn't, and neither did your grandmother. You were rude, disrespectful and downright mean. I understand you resent me, and there's a lot you want to get off your chest. Fine, I'm all-ears. But I will not tolerate any unpleasantness around Olivia while she's fighting to get better - not even from you.

"Now, I'm sure angst-ridden Abby will get you all worked up into a frenzy, blabbering on about me having no rights, legal or otherwise, concerning you. But you can politely inform 'the mouth that just won't quit', whatever she thinks she knows, is from another era.

"You, Camille Pope-Grant, are my daughter, and like the rest of my children: Karen, Gerry and Teddy, you will listen to me, and you will do as you're told, unless I'm telling you to jump off a cliff."

"You can't –"

"_Enough!_" he ordered.

Fitz lowered his gaze. His steely grey-blue eyes locked onto her with a ruthless determination.

"You. Are. Coming. Home. With. Me."

Every punctuated word jabbed at her skull like a heavy weight punch.

Had he gone crazy? He couldn't-tell her… could he…?

Defiant to the last! Camille puffed out angrily. She charged directly at him, making sure there was barely enough room to pass, she took a split second pause, before swinging the left side of her upper body, into his left waist side, and slamming her shoulder into him, with force. Fitz was caught off-guard, and took a slight tumble back.

Speeding past him, she wrenched the door open, and grabbed the handle with both hands.

Fitz didn't need a crystal ball to predict what was going to happen next, but that single crashing BANG! still made his whole body jump.

* * *

**_AN: Aaaw, you guys! Feeling blessed by all the thoughtful comments about the previous chapter. It's touching to know how invested you are in Camille and Fitz's relationship. Confession time, had a bit of an accident yesterday, I wrote and lost (don't ask!) the next chapter, so may take me longer to publish. Thanks. Happy reading to all Gladiators (-;_**


	9. Chapter 8 Calm Before the Storm Part I

**Disclaimer: _I don't own _**_**'Scandal'****… I'm just channeling my inner Rhimes.**_

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**Calm Before the Storm Part 1**

_Just a perfect day_

_You made me forget myself_

_I thought I was_

_Someone else, someone good_

_Oh, it's such a perfect day_

_I'm glad I spent it with you_

_Oh, such a perfect day_

_You just keep me hanging on_

_You just keep me hanging on_

_Perfect Day_ – Lou Reed

* * *

**_Tuesday – 3 days left._**

"I'm glad you came to stay with us last night," Anne Pope commented to her granddaughter, as she braided her hair into a pair of French plaits.

"I don't want to be rude Grandma but I didn't have much choice did I? I wasn't gonna stick around – ouch Grandma! – with _him_ staying there," Camille sulked, looking at Anne in mirror's reflection.

They were getting ready to drive to Beverley Hills and dine at a restaurant at the Four Seasons Hotel. A special treat since Anne and Donald were leaving Santa Barbara to fly to Atlanta tomorrow afternoon.

"Camilla," Anne began wearily. "Isn't it time you stopped this continuous war with your father. He's trying to make amends. Don't you think it would be magnanimous of you to meet him halfway?"

"Why should I? It's taken him nearly thirteen years to remember who I am."

"_To err is human to forgive is divine," _said Anne, quoting the 18th century poet, Alexandra Pope, to her granddaughter.

"Why is it that people who want forgiving use that quote?" she asked in a cynical tone.

Anne cleared her throat, and looked directly at Camille, as she continued braiding.

"Camilla, you and your mother didn't breath a word to us about the identity of your father for nearly thirteen years."

"That's different… I wasn't allowed to say anything because of who he was," she said defensively.

"And what about your mother, she could have told her family, and chose not to. Can you imagine how it makes me feel to hear in a telephone conversation from a stranger?"

Camille dropped her gaze. She had been too preoccupied with her own hurt feelings to consider the impact the news about him would have on her grandmother or anyone else.

"Mom had her reasons," was the best response Camille could come up with.

"That maybe so Camilla, but it still hurts to know that your own daughter doesn't trust you enough to tell you who the father of her child is. Twelve years - that's a long time to keep your nearest and dearest in the dark. If she did that to me, do you think there's a possibility she kept him in the dark too?"

Camille's head shot up.

"Wh-wh-what are you saying that my Mom didn't tell him about me? She told him. He knew. But he didn't care."

"Keep still, child… what I'm saying is, yes, she may have told him, but when? It maybe quite possible he didn't know about you from the start."

"No, you're totally wrong," she said angrily.

"And you know this how, Camilla?"

"My Mom-she told me, he-she said, he cared about us, but he had a family. So forget whatever lies he's told you, and him badmouthing my Mom, like it's her fault."

"He didn't lie to me. And he's not said a word against Olivia. I've just been thinking so many secrets involving your mother," Anne said quietly, tying a hair band to the end of the plait. "There, all done."

Camille stood up and peered closely at new hairstyle, she looked younger than her twelve years, with her hair pulled away from her face.

"I look about seven," she moaned, twisting her head from side to side, and sticking out her tongue as she made faces in the mirror.

"You look like what you are – a child."

There was a knock at the bedroom door and in walked a tall slightly overweight elderly man. He was looking smart in his navy blue suit, and holding his hat in his hand.

"Are you two lovely ladies ready for me to whisk you off to a swanky restaurant in Beverley Hills," he asked, smiling affectionately at the pair.

"In a minute Uncle Donald," Camille replied. She was busy rummaging through combs, brushes, and hair products on the dresser table, and soon found the packet of hairgrips. She knotted the two plaits together and began pinning them up.

"Camilla, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," she replied innocently.

"I don't know why I bother," Anne tutted in frustration.

She looked at her watch. It read six thirty and the drive would take them just over an hour. "We need to leave if we want to make our eight o' clock reservation."

"The taxi's downstairs," said Donald.

"Why didn't you braid my hair in that Heidi-style?" Camille asked, still fixated with her hair, and oblivious to the taxi announcement.

Collecting her bag and jacket from the bed, Anne lifted her head and gave Camille a stern look.

"I gave you a style. You children these days have got too much choice and too much to say. _No child left behind_. That should be no child's behind left –"

"Grandma!' exclaimed Camille laughing, "You can't stay stuff like that."

"And that's the problem Camilla, not being able to speak the truth either."

"Yeah, the truth about wanting to beat kids half to death."

"Why don't you both continue this discussion in the taxi?" Donald suggested. "We don't miss our don't reservation."

* * *

Camille was twirling around like a ballet dancer in the magnificent Four Seasons Hotel's foyer, as she and her grandparents waited to be escorted to the restaurant. Camille knew Anne was giving her the 'evil eye' but she didn't care, she was too excited. The hotel's glamorous golden-themed décor made her feel like she's just entered King Midas' palace.

A tall elegant man approached them with a friendly smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Williamson, Miss. Pope," he politely addressed the trio. "I'm Philip Marcos, the maitre'd at Culina Restaurant, would you like to follow me, please."

During the short walk to the restaurant the maitre'd recommended they dine outdoors, which they agreed to, and were soon sitting in the sprawling outside dining area situated on the southwest corner of the luxurious property. The place was busy with smiling sun-tanned patrons sitting at white linen-covered tables with family and friends enjoying a warm pleasant evening out.

"Whoa this place is amazing." Camille gushed, after they had been served complimentary drinks.

"I concur," said Anne, admiring the tropical plants dotting around the restaurant.

"How did you find out about it?' she asked excitedly.

Camille didn't want to appear offensive, but she didn't think either grandparent had their finger on the pulse when it came to popular Beverly Hills' restaurants.

Anne and Donald immediately exchanged worried looks and looked tentatively at Camille.

Her smile faded as she reached for her glass of coke.

"Oh," she mumbled, taking a drink.

"Fitzgerald thought seeing as it was our last night we might want to enjoy a nice evening out, and recommended this place. I believe he's friends with the chef," explained Anne cautiously.

Camille didn't say anything, except to slam her glass down on the table, spilling some of the content on her hand.

"C'mon Camille," said Uncle Donald. "You were so excited a moment ago."

He's right, Camille thought begrudgingly. She flashed a quick smile at him.

"I'll try and keep my food down," she joked, and he smiled.

"Did we mention that he's coming to the hospital tomorrow morning to say goodbye to us before we leave?" Anne said carefully.

May as well get all the bad news out of the way, she thought.

"I figured he would be. I'll make sure I'm gone."

"Camilla, you're going to be living with him in a few – "

"Not by choice."

"I'm sorry, but it's better than you staying in your mom's room… don't you agree Donald?"

Donald nodded firmly, tapping his menu on the table.

"We've been to his place, it's like something out of this world, you'll love it," declared Donald smiling at a frowning Camille. "And his two sons are so well behaved and polite."

A young waitress appeared at their table asking if they were ready to order, and saved Camille from a biting response. She really didn't want to get into a discussion with her grandparents on their last night about him. Especially how their last conversation had ended with him blowing up at her like he did, and playing Mr. Authority Figure. Ugh!

"Could you give us a minute please?' asked Anne kindly. As soon as the waitress left, she turned to Camille.

"Camilla…"

"Grandma, I don't wanna talk about it. I want to have a good time with you guys without having him ruining everything," and flipped up her menu up to cover her face.

"I was just going to say if you wanted us to drop you back at the hospital tonight, that's fine. Your - Fitzgerald won't be staying overnight."

Camille lowered her menu and smiled over at Anne.

"I think I'm gonna have one of the pasta dishes," she said brightly.

* * *

As promised Anne and Donald dropped Camille back at the hospital later that evening. Discussing tomorrow's arrangements they agreed to meet at eleven o'clock at the hospital entrance. Camille thanked them both for a great evening and they went their separate ways.

Camille had previously called Abby from the restaurant to ask if she'd be okay staying with her at the hospital. Abby agreed to meet her and was already sitting with Olivia when she arrived.

"How she doing?" she whispered, entering the room and walking over to Olivia, and caressing her arm over the bed sheet.

"She fine… you just missed the boys, and the nurses doing Liv's exercise thing."

"Oh right, okay."

"How was your evening?"

"Yeah, it was good… we went to this Italian restaurant at the Four Seasons Hotel. I saw Kirsten Stewart with a couple of her friends," she whispered excitedly, leaving her Mom's bedside to flop down beside Abby on the couch, and slipping off her sandals.

"That's the _Twilight_ girl, right?'

"Uh-huh! She seemed really friendly, smiling at everyone, and signing autographs, 'n' everything."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was pretty cool."

"Celebrities are ten a penny round here," said Abby, waving her hand.

"Sorry, it's a bit insensitive, getting hyped up about seeing celebs when my Mom's not doing so great."

"Oh, Cam, I was being facetious … your mom and I once bumped into that British actor, Idris Elba, when he was shooting _The Wire_ in DC, and we acted like a pair of giggling schoolgirls, completely embarrassing. Don't feel guilty about feeling excited about stuff or wanting to have some fun."

Camille smiled and got ready for bed.

* * *

**_Wednesday – 2 days left._**

Camille was sitting on a bench in the hospital grounds. Anne and Donald were saying a final goodbye to Olivia. He was also there. Hence the reason she was sitting pretty, reading messages and laughing at Instagram pictures from friends on their vacation. Anne had pleaded with her to join them on their last visit but she refused. For the next two days her mission was avoid Fitzgerald Grant. Wasn't it bad enough he was forcing her to live under the same roof as him? She became distracted from her thoughts when her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello Camille, it's Uncle Ochi," said an excited voice down the phone.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Your Aunt Kimberley gave birth to a baby girl about an hour ago. I'm a Daddy again!"

"Aaaahhh!" screamed Camille, jumping to her feet. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, how she doing, is she okay, is the baby okay?"

Ochi was laughing down the phone.

"Yes, yes, everyone's fine, Kim's fine, and the baby's fine. The boys are with them now."

"Have you got a name yet?"

"No, at the moment its just Baby Girl Bonsra. Are your grandparents with you?"

"No, they're visiting with Mom at the moment. I'm outside the hospital waiting to drive them to the airport. But I could go back up to the ward -"

"Don't worry yourself, I'll call Anne afterwards. How are you? How's your mom?"

"I'm doing alright, and Mom… she's okay… I mean, there's no improvement since her operation but she's stable. That's what the doctors keep telling us anyway?"

"All we can do is pray to the Good Lord to help us through these challenging times."

Camille nodded in silence.

"I've been praying for your Mom… and the whole family at church since the accident," Ochi told her.

"Thanks Uncle, Mom would like that… I know it's a bit tricky, but do you think you guys will be able to come out to visit anytime soon?'

"Kim and I have been talking about the boys and me coming over in the next couple of weeks. She feels bad she couldn't travel."

"I told her it was fine… Mom's had plenty of visitors, and I've been around most of the time."

"Yes… so your grandmother was saying." It was obvious who her uncle was referring to, but she wouldn't bring his name up if he didn't.

"A little girl… I know you guys knew, but still, it must still be…" she cooed excitedly.

Camille and her uncle were chatting away for a minute or two, and were saying their goodbyes, when she spotted Abby, Huck and Harrison coming towards her. She waved.

"Kim will want to speak to you later," Uncle Ochi was saying.

"Fantastic, tell her I said congratulations and kiss my new cousin for me?"

"I will do. God Bless, Camille, and look after yourself."

"AK's had her baby," she announced happily, running into Abby's arms.

"Fantastic! I must give her a call," said Abby, returning the young girl's affectionate embrace.

"Congrats cuzz," joked Harrison, removing his sunglasses and giving Camille a kiss. "Are your grandparents still with Liv?"

"Yeah, they should be down any minute," she said.

"Hey Huck," Camille said, looking over Harrison's shoulders. "How cool is that AK's had her baby?"

"Mmm, it's good," he mumbled, looking away from her and staring at the ground in front of him.

She frowned and shook her head, puzzled at his response. Sometimes she just couldn't make Huck out.

* * *

Everyone one was thrilled about the baby news. At last there was a topic of conversation that could bring smiles and laughter, so the journey to the airport was a joy. Anne was smiling and cooing over the pictures of the baby girl her grandsons had text her. And Camille made up a baby name game where they went through the letters of the alphabet, coming up with names, which everyone had to vote on.

Saying goodbye to her grandparents was tougher than she imagined. With Quinn gone and now Anne and Donald leaving, it felt like she was being abandoned. Anne promised to return as soon as she could, and asked Camille to at least try and make the effort with her father.

Camille squeezed Grandma Pope tightly, nodded, and said she would, crossing her fingers behind her back.

* * *

Knowing Fitz would still be visiting with Olivia, Harrison drove back to the hotel. Camille said she was tired and asked if he would be okay to rest in Abby's room. Dropping her bag on the bed, Camille settled back and closed her eyes, thinking sleep would come easy. Twenty minutes later she was staring at the white ceiling, still wide-awake. She was stuck thinking about her earlier fears of everyone leaving her and slipping back into their lives, while she was still here caring for her Mom, and dealing with _him._

She grabbed her bag, and took out her iPad and tried to contact Uncle Stephen via Face Time to chat, and see if he knew when he'd be flying out. But he wasn't around. Disappointed, she decided to turn to another friend she wanted to see in Santa Barbara, and took her phone from her bag, and dialed.

"Hello…" said the male voice.

"Hey Jake, it's Cam," she said quietly.

"Hey, two phone calls in two weeks, I'm starting to feel special."

She chortled softly and smiled wistfully.

"It's not your mom is it?" he suddenly asked.

"No, no no, Mom's good, she's fine."

"That's a relief, you had me worried… you okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah…" she said despondently, with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah…?" he mimicked her, but with a question.

"Yeah…no, pretty much everything sucks at the minute."

"What's wrong?"

She exhaled loudly down the phone.

"Just took my grandparents to the airport, they had to fly to Atlanta, and Quinn left a couple days ago…"

"So you're feeling a little abandoned?'

"Something like that," she admitted.

"I'm sorry Cam, you can't be having much of a summer vacation with everything that's going on with your mom?"

"Mmm… not much..."

"Well hopefully my news will give you something to smile about. I've managed to get a couple of days off work next week, and I'm flying out, on Wednesday – just for one day - and flying back on Thursday evening."

"Seriously, Jake?"

"Mmm-hmm," he confirmed.

"That is sooooo the best news!"

"Good, I'm glad I could say something to cheer you up. Job done."

"Is Allison okay… about you coming out?"

There was a slight pause.

"Sure, she knows how important you guys are to me. Speaking of Allison… there's something else I need to tell you… we found out couple days ago… we're pregnant."

"Wow…wow, I-I congratulations," she stammered. She felt stunned by the news.

"Thanks."

"AK, Oh my god I don't believe it. I forgot, my Aunt Kim had a baby girl today?" she said unsure. Mentally, trying to work out the time distance between California and Chicago.

"I didn't know she was pregnant… there does seem to be a bit of a baby boom going on."

"How could I forget that?" she asked, shaking her head.

"You've got a lot on your mind…"

"I guess… but hey, you must be excited… I guess you'll be getting married?"

"Yes, we've been talking about it after the baby's born..."

"That's nice… but haven't you guys only been dating for a couple months?" she questioned suspiciously.

"Seven months, actually."

"Seven months though… did you plan to get pregnant so quickly?'

"Cam."

Silence.

"Cam."

"Sorry, I don't know why I said that, it's none of my business… I kinda… I always hoped you and my Mom… you know."

"I know… your mom and I," he took a deep breath. "It didn't work out the way I planned either… but it does wonders for my ego, you thought of me in that way."

"Mmm-hmm…"

"Where are you now?"

"I'm back at the hotel with Abby and the guys."

"No hospital visit today?"

"I stayed at the hospital last night and I'm going back later on this evening."

"You stayed the night?" he asked surprised.

"Yeah, remember, I told you last week, my Mom's on a private wing, and there's a visitor's bedroom and communal area."

"Sounds seriously expensive."

"S-she's got some crazy insurance policy," she lied quickly, as Huck's explanation came flashing through her mind.

"Can I ask you something…I read an article online saying former President Grant's been to visit?"

"Er, yeah, he and his wife popped by the other day."

"Really? That's incredible… I knew your mom worked for him at the White House, but wow! I've got to ask, did you meet our former Commander-in-Chief?"

"Sort of, but there were other people from DC with him… so I hung out mostly with my Mom and the nurses."

"Alright, too-cool-for-school," he laughed. "You don't seem very excited about meeting a living breathing President."

"Jake, you know what a snore-fest I think my Mom's work is… and I'm not interesting in people droning on about the economy, or what policy decision should be taken on whatever issue…boring!"

"I forget I'm speaking to a budding artist and not a political whizz-kid… in that sense, you are definitely not your mother's child."

"Or his," she muttered under her breath, without thinking.

"What did you say?"

"N-nothing just-nothing, I-I'm tired and talking a load of gibberish," she stuttered.

Shit! She thought, hoping Jake brought her quick explanation. It worried her how many times she had lied to him in this one conversation. She hunched her shoulders to her ears in shame. Maybe she was a politician's daughter after all?

"Will you let me know as soon as you arrive next week?" asked Camille brightly, trying to distract Jake from what he may have heard.

"Sure thing, I'm on an early flight, so I'll probably drive straight to the hospital."

"Take Highway 101. It's pretty straightforward from there."

"Thanks, Miss Sat Nav."

"I've done the journey a couple times. And make sure you call me when you arrive, cos you have to be taken by security to my Mom's ward."

"I'll remember… listen Cam, I want you to know, I'm here for you. Don't feel you need to wait till I get there on Wednesday, if you want to talk about anything, you call me."

"Thanks Jake… I will. See ya, Wednesday?"

"See ya Wednesday, take care, Cam Cam."

* * *

"Camille seems in a better mood these last couple days," Harrison commented to Abby, as he took a seat on the couch in the living room.

"Of course she is, she's been with her grandparents, and us, and Grant's been out of the picture - it's a no-brainer! Do we know when they're coming back, Anne and Donald?"

Harrison shrugged his shoulders.

"The last thing I heard, Anne said she would try and fly back in the next week… but I'm not sure, I picked up that she wanted to get back to Chicago and see her new granddaughter," he replied.

"Understandably… but I tell ya, there's one thing that's been playing on my mind since the other day: who's responsible for Cam while Liv's in the hospital? I'm just asking because the other night, Grant said something to Camille about me, something about: what I think I know is from another era?"

"Quite simply, Olivia is currently out of action, he's got rights, parental rights, as her biological father." said Harrison.

"You think he's going to make a legal challenge? Huh, his name's not on the birth certificate."

"What's a birth certificate matter when you've got DNA," interjected Huck from the other side of the room. He was seated at a table with two computers on the go.

"Daddy. Not. Around. That's what you've got. Look, he's not going to mount a legal challenge, he wouldn't want the publicity," shot back Abby.

"And neither would we, think about…"

Pacing the room and throwing her hands up in the air she continued.

"You guys, I'm not gonna stand back and let that jackass do whatever he wants. Did you see how much he upset her the other night? Where the hell does he get off, threatening to stop her from seeing her own mother? He's known her, for what, two minutes? And he thinks he can talk to her and order her around like she's one of his foot soldiers? She's really pissed, and talking about leaving, going home, back to New York, without her mom. Can you believe it? Selfish sonofabitch."

"Relax Abby, Cam's just in the other room. Yeah, we know how upset she was, but she was just mouthing off about going back to New York. She doesn't want to go back home, and leave Liv." Harrison said, relaxing back on the couch with his arms behind his head.

Huck was still hunched over two computers, but still paying attention to his friends.

"He wants to ban her from seeing Liv and you're alright with that?"

"Again, Abby you exaggerate, Grant said he'd stop her staying overnight – that's it. And we've been saying pretty much the same thing, she couldn't stay in her mom's room indefinitely."

"So what? We're just gonna stand by and let him take her to wherever, against her wishes?"

"He's not gonna putting her in a hole or anything – sorry Huck – he's taking Cam home to live with him, and her… brothers and sister."

"Christ, Harrison, you're making this sound like an episode of _The Brady Bunch_."

"What I'm saying is under the circumstances, would it be so terrible if she went to stay with him?"

"Have you been smoking the California chronic? She can't stand the man, and wants nothing to do with him. I say, since we're sticking around, she stays with us. Think about it we got these three rooms 'til next week. I say we go for a house rental. We've got a rental car, why not a rental house, and Cam can come live with us?"

Harrison and Huck exchange looks.

"I like the house rental idea… but –" began Harrison.

"But what? It's the perfect solution. She moves in with us, somewhere she feels safe, and can visit Olivia without that megalomaniac on her back."

"You think Camille's gonna go for that?" asked Huck, scratching his head.

"I'd stake my year's salary on it. Like you just said, he's going to stop her overnight stays with Olivia, anyway. So staying with us won't make a blind bit of different, right?"

"You heard him the first night we arrived. He wants his daughter with him. Period. Full stop. End of conversation." Harrison warned Abby, rubbing his hand over his forehead.

"Camille is Olivia's daughter, this is about what she wants, and she wants is to be as far away from Grant as possible." Folding her arms across her chest, she went on. "We're gonna handle this. And Fitzgerald Grant can go straight to hell. I'm going to start looking up rentals now," she said, taking her phone out her pocket.

"And what about DC and Rosen?" Harrison asked carefully. "How long can we stay out here without the boss man having something to say?"

Abby froze.

"I'll take an indefinite leave of absence if I have to," she declared.

Huck looked at Harrison who was deliberately avoiding making eye contact with him or Abby.

"What?" demanded Abby, placing her hands on hips, and swiftly looking from one man to the other.

"Nothing," said Harrison, with a low whistle and shaking his head.

"You think David won't go for it? He'll go for it," she reassured them both.

"Yep, no doubt," quipped back Harrison. Abby looked icily at her colleague and friend.

'What does that mean?"

It's means you're right, he'll go for it."

A short silence broke out.

"Fine! If you two have nothing else to add to the conversation I'm going to start looking up rentals, and set up appointments with local estate agents."

"What are you going to tell Grant?" asked Harrison, sitting up.

"I -"

"Nothing," said a quiet voice, interrupting Abby. "It's none of his business."

They all turned to see Camille standing in the doorway.

* * *

**AN: ****_Hello! Once again, I'm literally blown away by the range of comments. As some of you know, I do respond personally to reviews, and I'm gutted I can't get in touch with Guests, so I would like to say a special 'thanks' to you._**

**_Camille is certainly dividing opinion. (Which is good, yes?) But let's keep in mind: it's only been two weeks since her mom's accident, and meeting her father. She's 12 years old, and for all her cleverness, she a young girl, scared, and lashing out to protect herself._**

**_Back to this chapter: countdown to Friday, grandparents gone, Jake's flying out, and Gladiators are plotting with Camille against Fitz's ranch plan. Mmm,... any thoughts?_**

**_Happy reading to all Gladiators! (-;_**


	10. Chapter 8 Calm Before the Storm Part II

**Disclaimer: ****_I don't own 'Scandal' in any shape or form._**

* * *

**AN: ****_Further to a recent guest review, _****_I thought it important to set out my 'Scandal' AU timeline to clear up any confusion:_**

**1999** (Jan) Olivia and Fitz have a one-night stand

**1999 **Camille Pope is born

**2000** Fitz becomes State Governor of California

**2003 **Olivia joins Grant Campaign

**2004 **Fitz becomes POTUS, Olivia sets up OPA

**2008** Fitz wins a second term, Olivia resigns from OPA and leaves DC

**2011** Olivia and Camille return to New York, Olivia dates Jake

**2012** Fitz steps down as POTUS and reconnects with Olivia after four (4) years

**2013** Olivia's accident, Camille meets Fitz

**_Hope that makes sense. This is my first FF so apologies if my writing in the Prologue and first three chapters wasn't clear. I'm a work in progress, and learning all the time. LOL._**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**Calm Before the Storm Part II**

_When the day that lies ahead of me_

_Seems impossible to face_

_When someone else instead of me_

_Always seems to know the way _

_Then I look at you_

_And the world's alright with me_

_Just one look at you_

_And I know it's gonna be_

_A lovely day_

_Lovely Day – _Bill Withers

**Thursday – is the last day.**

The nurses had just completed their late morning check-ups and left. Camille was dressed and preparing to meet Abby at the hospital entrance. Walking over to her sleeping Mom she picked up the television remote control on the bedside table and flicked on the TV. She settled on a random news channel.

"I'm gonna leave the remote control here," Camille explained to her Mom, placing the device by Olivia's hand. "So you can change the channel if you feel like it."

She gazed at Olivia looking for a response to her words a slight change in her breathing pattern, a faint twitch, anything to indicate she was still with her. Camille lowered her eyes she didn't want her Mom to see her disappointment. She took a deep breath, and when she raised her head up a huge bright smile greeted Olivia.

"Listen, Mom, I'm off with Abby, but I'll be back later. I'll get you a present… okay?" And she kissed Olivia goodbye.

Picking up her bag she left the room and bumped into Dr. Ramen.

"Good morning Camille, what are you up to today?"

"Good morning Dr Ramen, I'm off to meet Abby downstairs," she said cheerfully to the doctor.

"Are you going anywhere special?"

Camille shook her head. "No… probably just heading back to her hotel, and getting in touch with a few friends."

"Well, take care of yourself, and have a good day."

"You too Dr. Ramen, bye."

"Bye."

Camille proceeded towards the elevator. She hummed to herself as she waited. She thought that she might spend some of her day online researching her Mom's favorite songs. She remembered reading somewhere that music had healing benefits, and playing coma patients familiar songs could help. In some cases, it could wake them from their deep sleep. She smiled. Yes, music would be her present to her Mom.

She was still smiling to herself when the elevator arrived and did a little skip when it pinged. The doors parted and there he stood between his two agents. Their eyes met and her sunshine smile drained from her face. Heart pounding and chest tightening, her breathing become unsteady, and suddenly she was taking in oxygen at a fast rate.

She looked away, and quickly stepped to one side, so they could pass.

The three tall men stepped out.

Fitz stopped right in front of her, smiling gently. He knew she wanted to jump straight into the elevator after their last meeting. But today was a new day, couldn't they start again? When he thought back to the other night, he had to admit, he'd surprised himself that he'd pulled rank so quickly. But seeing her purposefully destroy the gifts he and the boys brought was behavior he couldn't ignore.

"Hello Camille," Fitz greeted her warmly, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Hello…" she murmured, refusing to meet his gaze and shifting her bag onto her shoulder. "I need the…" she was saying, pointing at the elevator, and attempting to move past him at the same time.

Fitz shifted his muscular frame to fill the elevator entrance, deliberately blocking her path. The door closed, and Camille's eyes did too. Taking a deep breath she stepped back.

"Tom, Bill, can you give me a minute? Thanks," said Fitz to his two agents, still looking at Camille.

Both men gave a brief nod, and left walking side by side towards Olivia's room door.

"Camille…"

"I gotta go..."

"I didn't mean to barge in on you, but I've a meeting with Dr. Ramen this morning," he explained.

Her head shot up to look at him.

"Why, what's wrong? Is it Mom?" she asked frantically, and Fitz shook his head.

"No, no, there's nothing to worry about. I have boring paperwork to go through with him and the hospital administrator."

"Oh… phew," and a faint smile of relief crossed her lips.

"I saw your grandparents yesterday just before they left for the airport. Did you guys have a good time at Culina's the other night?"

Looking back down and straight ahead, she nodded, and again, shifted her bag over her shoulder.

"Yes… thanks, we had a nice time."

Fitz took a deep breath and exhaled. A relaxing sigh escaped from his lips as his chest swelled with a warm feeling. He smiled. It was the first time she'd said a kind word to him and it felt good.

"Anne said you wrote her a lovely letter… thanks for doing that, and cleaning up the visitor's room."

Camille blushed. Embarrassment was creeping through her insides like a vine, as she cast her mind back to how she'd screamed, shouted and stomped like a two-year old on Monday night, throwing every insult in his direction to keep him at arms length.

"I was already gonna say sorry to my Grandma… I'd brought her a book when I went shopping with Quinn," she said defensively.

"I don't doubt it. Your grandmother told me what a considerate and thoughtful girl you normally are. I know she's very proud of you… what you're going through… it must be every child's worst nightmare."

She twitched uncomfortably, swallowing hard, and struggled to catch her breath, as memories of happier times with Grandma Pope came as timely reminder to how much everything had changed since her Mom's accident, and meeting him.

"I-I…I guess," she replied quietly.

"While you're here, I wanted to discuss tomorrow with you? I thought we could leave here late afternoon – say around five? – to be home in time for dinner. The boys have planned something special for you," he ended his last sentence on a lighter note, raising his eyebrows at her hopefully.

Camille began biting her nails nervously. Why did he do that - bring up her siblings? He did that when they first meet, and saw the effect it had on her. Because what child wouldn't want to know their brothers and sisters? The China Wall she'd built up against him had made it easier to push curious thoughts about Karen, Gerry and Teddy out of her mind.

She nodded, and tilted her head to stare blankly at the elevator buttons.

Fitz had hoped hearing about the boys preparing a special surprise to welcome her, might make her feel less anxious about tomorrow's move to the ranch, and give her something to look forward to, but there was only silence simmering between them.

"Camille, look, I don't want this tension between us…"

"And I don't want to be threatened by you," she said, with her eyes glued to the elevator.

Fitz sighed heavily. He desperately wanted to avoid another altercation, and make a habit of arguing every time they spoke. She had every reason to be mad at him, and naturally wanted to make him suffer a little. But that didn't give her license to act out in whatever manner she chose.

"Things had gone too far, I had to take action," he replied carefully.

Her head instantly shot up and she stared at him defiantly.

"Like stopping me seeing my Mom?"

"You left me no choice."

She dropped her gaze and shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't matter now."

Stay calm girl, she told herself, stay calm. "How long are you hangin' around today?" she asked politely, with no hint of sarcasm.

He sighed in exasperation. Whatever he said, whatever he did was a wrong move.

"I plan on being here till six… does that suit you?"

Six o'clock didn't suit her one tiny bit. She wanted to spend the whole day with her Mom. Why couldn't he at least have given her today? But she held back saying anything. Tomorrow she would be gone, to live with her friends, and he would become a distance memory. No different to a month ago when he didn't know her and she didn't exist in his eyes.

"Yeah, okay, thanks," she replied quietly.

Fitz smiled to himself, because when she wasn't shouting at him at one hundred decibels, her voice was naturally soft and as clear as a bell. As though she were singing, and he felt soothed by her temperate tone.

"You know you could stay… I'd like you to stay, to show there's no hard feelings on my part about the other night," he began to suggest. "Mmm...? Don't you think it would be nice… you and I, getting to know each other?" he asked, lowering his deep voice to a whisper. He took a small step towards her and she didn't flinch or step back, which surprised him.

She licked her lips nervously, and began rolling her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down, repeatedly. She didn't know why but there was something compelling about his voice. She took a shaky in breath as a warm sensation began swirling around inside her stomach and rising up and spreading through her chest. She released a soft slow exhale and felt strangely calm. Shifting her gaze she slowly looked up at him, and her eyes widened in amazement to see sparking blue eyes glowing warmly at her. Looking in his eyes she started thinking about Quinn's last words about not letting the past affect her future and Grandma Pope telling her to give him a chance. Could she… could she trust -

"Camille," he prompted.

She shook her head as she snapped out of her trance, unaware she'd been staring without saying a word.

"I-I'm sorry… um, Quinn, I mean, A-Abby's kinda waiting for me -" she stammered out, and hastily dropped her head, so he couldn't see her blushing face.

Clenching his jaw, Fitz instinctively stepped back, he knew better than to repeat his offer with Ms. Whelan on the prowl. Maybe if she'd been with one of the others he might have pushed it. But the flaming red head was an obstacle he'd rather not tangle with - for now. He could bide his time and be patient. Tomorrow things would be different. He could afford to let this opportunity go.

"Well, if she's waiting for you…"

He stepped aside.

She pressed a button. Her eyes locked straight ahead, as she wrapped her bag and arms tightly around her chest.

Fitz could see she was making it clear the conversation was over, so he said a quiet goodbye, and she nodded, flashing a confused look at him, and he slowly walked away. His cell started to ring and he pulled it out from his jacket, and seeing the caller's name sighed heavily. He turned back to see Camille stepping into the elevator without a backward glance, so he answered his phone.

"Mellie, what do you want?" he asked tersely.

"Fitzgerald, that's no way to speak to the mother of your children, or should that be _one_ of the mother's of your children," she drawled sarcastically.

"Speak Mellie, or I'll hang up."

"I spoke to the boys this morning… Gerry told me Olivia's daughter's coming to stay at the ranch tomorrow?"

"That's right. But you always knew this could potentially happen, forget what's happened, Olivia and I were planning on flying Camille out to California over the summer, so why the call?"

"Well, from what I understand, there does appear to be one Pope woman on Planet Earth that hasn't fallen for your pretty-boy charms."

Fitz stopped walking, and paused to take a deep breath, and began sweeping his two fingers over his eye and eyebrow, repeatedly. He continued his trip slowly down the hallway, promising himself that when he arrived at Olivia's door his conversation with Mellie would be over.

"She's known me for a couple of weeks, and she's dealing with her Mom being seriously ill in hospital. She's confused, she's angry - how would you feel in her shoes?"

"Apparently she walks out any time you go near Olivia," Mellie bitched at him.

"I won't lie it's difficult, but I've seen _my daughter_ this morning - it's a work in progress," he seethed icily. Mellie was the last person he wanted to discuss Camille with, knowing her morbid addiction to any major disruption in his life.

"Really Fitzgerald. Do you think moving a teenage girl - with a bad attitude - into your home is a good idea? I don't wish to sound uncaring, as a mother, I feel for her, I do -"

"That would be a first, you, actually feeling. An emotion," he retorted sharply.

Mellie carried on as though he hadn't even spoken.

"But it's the boys' vacation they should be out having fun, not saddled with the Pope family's problems."

"Mellie we're divorce and –"

"We have an agreement. I play the role of dutiful wife and you spare me any public embarrassment until our official announcement, and then you can run off with whatever woman tickles your fancy. So far I've stuck to our agreement, I visited the hospital with you, to end some of the media speculation over your current fanatical behavior. But you need to distance yourself from this unfortunate incident and play your part. We agreed to a smooth transition, and your continual presence at the Santa Barbara Medical Hospital, and the girl living in your home is not it!"

"Mellie, I'm sorry, but Olivia's accident changes everything. Camille is coming to stay at the ranch with the boys and me. It's going to happen whether you approve or not. I'm not interested in preserving my legacy, or sticking to any agreement we may or may not have. I'm doing what I should've done a long time ago, I'm thinking about my children and our future together as a family," he explained curtly as he reached Olivia's door.

"I've been making plans -"

"That included leaving Teddy with me over the summer, so you could fly to The Hamptons with Patrick."

"Oh, so now you _do_ mind looking after Teddy?" she goaded him.

"_Don't_ twist my words. I love having Teddy with me," he told her between clenched teeth, and she let out a shrilled laugh.

"I'm sorry, but I'm distinctly getting the impression the happiness of our children isn't of concern to you."

"I'm concerned about the happiness of _all_ my children."

Once again, she ignored him. "Didn't you say the girl's grandparents are in Santa Barbara, wouldn't it be more appropriate for her to stay with them?"

"They left for Atlanta yesterday, not that it's any of your concern, and if you keep referring to Camille as anything less than my daughter, I swear -"

"Oh, Fitzgerald, are you trying hit me where it doesn't hurt. This is a dangerous move. You risk exposing our family to a scandal bigger than Watergate, if it comes out she's your daughter at time when you and I are still officially a happily married couple."

Fitz took a deep inhale and exhaled slowly, as he pondered his former wife's last three words. He heard Mellie huff impatiently down the phone.

"Then maybe we stop pretending and end this once and for all."

"What? Fitzgerald Grant, I'm warning you, if I'm in anyway tainted -"

"So this isn't really about the boys, this is about you."

"How dare you imply -"

"I'm not implying, I'm stating it as: fact."

"You listen -"

"Mellie, I'm hanging up now."

Stepping through the door was like entering into a parallel universe and thoughts of his last conversation - poof - disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Hey sweet baby," he whispered.

* * *

**AN:****_ Thanks for your comments - they really made me think! Camille's attitude: right or wrong? You have strong opinions. As I have previously said via email to some readers: Cam is hurting, but she can't keep up this relentless angst, and it does appear she's thawing – just a little? Maybe? I'm glad I could clear up the Melitz divorce issue. Last part of this chapter coming shortly. Thanks for your support if you're following the story, made it a favorite or viewing._**

**_Happy Reading to all Gladiators (-;_**


	11. Chapter 8 Calm Before the Storm Part III

**Disclaimer: ****_I don't own 'Scandal' in any shape or form_**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**Calm Before the Storm Part III**

_How many of us have them?_

_Friends_

_Ones we can depend on_

_Friends_

_How many of us have them?_

_Friends_

_Before we go any further, lets be_

_Friends_

_Friends _– Whodini

"I'm not normally a sunbathing kinda gal being so fair 'n' all, but I'm treating you today," Abby declared, as Camille approached her in the hospital entrance.

"Okay...?" Camille said slowly and warily.

"Did you know between the hospital and airport there's a beach? Goleta Beach to be precise."

"So...?"

Abby rolled her eyes impatiently.

"So Missy Pope… we're going to the beach."

Camille studied Abby's lilywhite face.

"Seriously, Abby, I know you don't do sun," Camille said with raised eyebrows.

"Forget that! I've brought a hat the size of a flying saucer, and super strength sun block, so let's roll."

Grabbing Camille's hand she began heading for the revolving doors.

"But Abby," Camille protested, as she skidded across the floor holding onto Abby's hand. "I don't have anything to wear..."

"It's handled! Bikinis, towels, sun block, and drinks! I even rented a convertible so we can drive in style, a la Katy Perry, or should that be LA Katy Perry?" she said laughing at her own on-the-spot humor.

* * *

Goleta beach was busy with families and students who attended the local university. They found a parking space near to the pier, because Abby explained that after they had lunch they should take a walk and see if they could spot any dolphins known to swim in the waters from time to time.

"Thanks, this is a nice surprise… you didn't have to," said Camille as they settled under their umbrellas, with drinks in hand on their sun loungers.

"I thought you could do with a change of scene and take a break from the hospital drama," Abby said, covering her long slim legs with a towel and settling back.

"Ya got that right… mmm, this is just so the best," she murmured, lifting her head to take in the heat from the baking hot sun she was partly shaded from, thanks to a perfectly angled umbrella.

"Yeah, I'm having a ball," mocked Abby, adjusting her hat to fully cover her face.

"I'm sorry, but I love coming to the beach," she said, looking out at the gorgeous blue sea, crisp yellow sand and numerous happy bathers. She spotted a group of bare-chested teenage boys carrying a volleyball, and laughing and kicking sand at each other.

Abby followed her gaze to the group of young boys walking about three hundred yards away.

"Hey missy, keep your eyes to yourself!"

"Just looking," she said smiling.

"Hey Cam, I don't want to be a mood killer, but I spotted Grant this morning."

She rolled over on her stomach and looked across at Abby, adjusting her bikini top.

"Yeah, he had to come in and sign some paperwork for the doctor."

"He must be spending some serious bucks," commented Abby with a sneer. "_The bigger the diamond, the bigger the guilt._"

Camille smiled nervously at Abby, sweeping loose strains of hair behind her ears.

"I'm sure you make half the stuff up you say at times," she quipped back.

Abby shrugged her shoulders, and picked up her quickly melting ice soda and took a long drink.

"Was this morning the first time you'd seen him since his Darth Vader routine?" she asked Camille.

She nodded.

"See, I like how you know who Darth Vader is. We must have a _Star Wars_ marathon one evening," she promised Camille.

"As long as the movie stars Melissa McCarthy. I love that woman she's too funny. Did you see _Bridesmaids_?"

Abby's face fell for a minute, and Camille became immediately concerned.

"Hey, sorry just a joke… you don't find Melissa McCarthy funny? That's alright."

And just as quickly Abby was smiling again, but there was sadness in her eyes she couldn't hide.

"Aunt Abby…"

"I'm fine, sweetie. The name Melissa just takes me to a bad place. Anyway, we were talking about Captain America… what did he have to say?" she asked, resuming her upbeat tone.

"Oh, he just talked about tomorrow and what time we're leaving for his house or ranch… I didn't argue with him or anything. I -" and she stopped. She thought about telling Abby they'd shared a friendly moment, but held back because she felt confused by what had gone on during their last couple of minutes together.

"Good for you."

"You really don't like him do you Abby?"

"Cam, I've know your mom my whole adult life, and I love her like a sister. He was the reason she quit OPA and left DC. And I went from seeing my best friend every day to barely once a month over the last next four-five years."

Camille's breath hitched as she remembered being eight years old, and Huck collecting her from Stephen and Georgia's house, and announcing he was taking her back to live with Olivia full-time. Abby had just confirmed what she'd always known about her Mom's decision to leave her business: Fitzgerald Grant.

"But Abby, my Mom cheated too…" Camille commented.

"Call me a hypocrite, but Liv wasn't married, he was, is, whatever. So to answer your question, no, he's not on my Christmas List, and won't be any time soon."

Camille started tapping her feet on the lounger and wringing her hands together nervously.

"Have you ever met her? His wife, I mean?"

"Been at the same event, but I was never introduced to her. She kinda glided around the place constantly smiling and chatting away like the consummate politician's wife. But it's those eyes that give her away. Blue cold steel. Underneath all the smiles and platitudes, she's ruthless to the core, and makes The Ice Queen seem like the Easter Bunny,"

"Huh."

"Can't you feel the chill as we're talking about her? Quick! Grab me a sarong, no make that a scarf!"

Camille laughed out loud, admiring Abby's quick wit.

"Thanks Ab."

"For what?"

"For making me laugh."

"All part of the Gladiator service. What time does he think he's dragging you away?"

"Five… he says he wants us 'home' in time for dinner."

"We should make sure you're packed and ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning. The house should be ready to move into, Harrison's on the case as we speak."

"Great..."

Still fiddling nervously with her hands, Camille took a deep breath and thought for a moment. For some reason her mind was constantly thinking back to earlier, when she was standing with him by the elevator. Maybe... because, for once, they hadn't been arguing, and she'd felt slightly calmer, and a bit sheepish about their last encounter, their interaction felt different.

She remembered she couldn't help being drawn to the sound of his deep voice as he repeated his invitation asking her to stay, and when she looked up and saw the depth of warmth in his eyes, and open smiling face.

"Do you think he really does love me?" she blurted out.

Abby pursed her lips together and tilting her head, she lifted the sun hat partially from her face to look directly into Camille's eyes.

Camille swallowed hard, and braced herself for Abby's answer, feeling as though an unbearable truth was about to hit her.

"Yes, I do… I believe his loves you, but the problem is he loves Fitzgerald Grant III even more. He takes what he wants, and everyone else can go hang - that's my real issue with him."

Camille dropped her head onto the lounger and began shaking when Abby had finished.

"Hey Cam…" she said softly. "I'm sorry... look, I'm not saying he's the worse guy in the world, but he does seem to make a habit of dropping emotional H-bombs where ever he goes."

Abby could see Camille was upset, and that wasn't her intention, she just had to be honest. In fairness she felt she'd held back compared to the rant that was on the tip of her tongue, since today was about them both relaxing and having fun.

"I'm sorry, Cam… you okay?" she asked carefully, and Camille nodded.

"Huh-uh," she sniffed, with her head buried into her chest. "I'm just gonna close my eyes for a bit."

"Okay, honeybee, you do that…" and Abby pulled her hat back down to fully cover her face, and also closed her eyes. She could do with the rest before tomorrow's shit storm.

* * *

Camille and Abby reluctantly left Goleta Beach mid-afternoon. On the drive back to the hotel, Abby got a call from Harrison to say they were back at the hospital with Olivia, and confirmed they'd meet the two girls in their usual place: Starbucks on the third floor.

"That's the two H's saying they're already at the hospital… are you happy to drive straight there?" Abby asked Camille, with one hand firmly on the steering wheel, and gently placing her cell phone in the side arm pocket of the car.

Camille looked at the time on the car's dashboard clock; it was nearly five o'clock.

"Yeah, I don't mind… seeing as it's my last night, I'd like to spend as much time with Mom as I can. Plus, I want to play her those songs we downloaded today, to cheer her up."

Camille sunk back smiling in her seat. Bar the one heavy conversation about him, she'd had miraculously managed to enjoy her time away from the hospital doing normal fun stuff that most kids were doing over the summer vacation: kicking back, relaxing, and having fun in the sun. Suddenly, she didn't care why... maybe because Abby had mentioned her earlier, she started singing one of Katy Perry's songs:

"_California girls, we're unforgettable_

_Daisy dukes, bikinis on top_

_Sun-kissed, so hot_

_We'll melt you popsicle…"_

Abby shifted her gaze to sneak a peak at a singing and smiling Camille.

"You're in a good mood," she said semi-shouting, and smiling brightly at her companion.

"_Ooooh Oh Ooooh_," sang Camille, waving her arms in the air, as she nodded and smiled at Abby.

* * *

Camille and Abby spotted Harrison and Huck sitting nearby the hospital canteen's cash register, nursing half eaten sandwiches and coffee. They soon joined both men, dropping their bags on the floor, as they collapsed into their seats. Camille was sitting next to Huck and gave him a hug and kissed his stubble cheek, and Harrison a friendly wave.

"Hey guys," she said cheerfully.

"How was your day?" Harrison asked the happy sun seekers.

"Great, Goleta beach is amazing, we kinda just lazed about all day, didn't we Abby? I found songs on Spotify, I thought Mom would like to hear, and we took a walk along the pier, so yeah, it was pretty cool," Camille chirped to Harrison, feeling happy and relaxed. She stretched out her arms and pulled up her lightweight cardigan to admire her deep caramel tanned arms.

"You're looking healthy, girl, your tan's coming along nicely… yours too, Abby," Harrison mocked Abby.

"Ha ha, straight to TVO," she replied dryly, rolling her eyes at him.

"I picked up the house keys this afternoon," Harrison told Camille.

She grinned from ear to ear. She'd enjoyed a great relaxing day at the beach with her friend, she was staying the night with Mom, and the house rental had been sorted. In a strange way it felt like one of the best days Camille had had since arriving in Santa Barbara.

"How did you manage to sort it so fast?" she asked.

"I know some people, that know some people, that know some other people," Harrison smiled smugly, with a wink. "Huck and I went to check it out this afternoon. Four bedrooms, two receptions, pool and tennis court, not too shabby. It's about half an hour drive from the hospital."

"Location location location," beamed Abby at Camille "We're set for tomorrow," she said with a sense of satisfaction.

"Have you seen Grant?" Huck asked Camille, his knee was bopping up and down at a frantic rate.

"I saw him this morning," she said, exchanging looks with Abby.

"And…?"

"He talked about what time he wants to leave tomorrow, that was it, really."

"You sure this is what you want Camille?" asked Huck.

"Of course she's -"

"Abby," Huck cut across his fellow Gladiator. "I'm speaking to Camille…" he turned back to her. "I need you to be sure this is what you want?"

"Yeah, you know it is. Why, don't you want to live with me?" she asked defensively, her heart sinking at his sudden change in attitude.

Why was he asking her this, after they'd all agreed? she thought worriedly.

"Camille, this isn't about what I, Harrison or Abby want. This concerns you and Grant."

"I-I met him two weeks ago, I-I don't know him, and we argue, it's- it's -"

"Things are difficult Cam, but you said it: it's been a couple of weeks, you've had a lot to digest," Huck interjected, recognizing how confusing the situation was for her.

"Huck, what are you -" Abby tried again. She had a bad feeling the guys weren't on the same page with their original plan anymore.

"Abby can you go get me a soda? Thanks," said Harrison, giving her a hard prolonged stare. She gave him a wide side-eye look and didn't move. "Abby," he prompted, staring her down.

After a few seconds, Abby reluctantly got up and looked at Camille with raised eyebrows, and made her way to the self-serving counter displaying an assortment of drinks. Looking back over her shoulder she worried about what had been said between Huck and Harrison in the last few hours. If she was completely honest with herself she knew the guys had reservations about Cam's new living arrangement, but told herself this is what Liv would want: Camille being looked after by her Gladiators.

Harrison scooted forward on his chair, and Camille immediately shrunk back in her seat and started biting her nails. Every previous good feeling was disappearing, like sand slipping through her fingers.

"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously, her eyes darting anxiously from Huck to Harrison.

"Nothing's wrong Cam, we, Huck and I we wanted to talk to you about tomorrow," said Harrison, with a friendly smile. "We have no problem with you moving into the house, but we think you need to tell Grant about your plans."

"What? No, he won't let me, he'll say no, if I tell him!"

"Let me finish. We'll be there with you, and we can explain to him you're initially gonna come stay with us, and as a concession, you'll visit him and your brothers at his ranch, until you get to know each other better, and take it from there."

"I thought it was okay, me staying with you guys, and now your dumping me. That's fine, I'm use to people dumping on me," she sobbed, feeling tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

"Cam," Harrison began seriously. "We're not dumping you. We love you. Don't ever question our love for you. But it's a sensitive time and we can't afford any more drama around Olivia. Your Mom came to Santa Barbara for a reason and that reason was Grant."

"No! She would've told me," she cried, grabbing her bag from the floor and leaping to her feet.

"Camille, where are you going? Sit down. C'mon, sit down." Harrison repeated lowering his voice and watching her, with nothing but concern in his eyes.

She dropped her bag on the floor and slowly sat down, her eyes narrowing at Harrison all the time.

Abby arrived back and slammed a can of Dr. Pepper in front of Harrison, and he gave her a scathing look. She knew how much he hated the soft drink.

"What's going on? What have you been saying to her?" demanded Abby her eyes flickering between the three sour faces.

"They want me to go and live with him," Camille told Abby fiercely. "Saying he's the reason -"

"I thought we'd had this discussion, Cam is coming with us," Abby said angrily.

"Cam, that's not what we said… we wanted to have a quiet discussion about tomorrow and avoid potential problems with Grant."

"I don't believe this! Have you forgotten who Olivia Pope is: our mentor, our friend. She's gone beyond the call of duty for all of us over the years. She asked us, as her Gladiators to look after and protect her daughter, and you want to back out?" Abby asked, hissing angrily.

"We can't just walk out of the hospital with her," Harrison said wearily to Abby, he couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Why, why you can't you just look after me like Stephen did?" Camille asked desperately.

"That was a different time, Cam, your Mom was working in DC when you were living with Stephen and Georgia. Grant has rights, he's your father, which makes him your legal guardian," he explained to her.

"You think he'll go to a court or something?" she asked panicking.

"I don't think he'd take it that far." Harrison looked at his watch. "Listen, it's nearly six, why don't we continue this in the communal area, because we need to have this conversation, people, okay?" Harrison asked looking around the table at everyone.

"Don't ask me," said Abby in disgust. "I'm done."

Harrison could feel his earlier frustration with Abby stepping up a gear, and taking a couple of long deep breaths decided to ignore her.

"Okay, Cam?"

"What do -" Camille stopped speaking. A couple from a nearby table openly staring at her in amazement caught her attention.

She stared back with a raised eyebrow, thinking they might look away, but no, they continued staring back. She frowned, and shook her head. "Okay, okay, fine, we can talk, but -" The buzz of Huck's cell phone interrupted her, and she exhaled loudly in annoyance.

Huck's cell ringing was soon followed quickly by Harrison's, and finally Abby's - it was like an orchestral cell phone performance. They looked at each other bemused at the coincidence, but their smiles were short lived when they began speaking on the phone.

"I'll call you back… _I said I'd call you back_," said Harrison angrily, jumping up from his seat, and hanging up on the caller.

"What's wrong?" Camille asked, and involuntarily shuddered, feeling something was very wrong.

He held his hand up at her, and began quickly scrolling through his phone.

Abby was shouting into her receiver.

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. I suggest you be very…" Camille started waving, trying to get her attention, but Abby shot up out of her seat, and deliberately turned her back on her.

She quickly turned to Huck but he too was preoccupied with his caller.

"Yes, she's fine…she's fine. No. We're in Starbucks on the third floor… when? What? T-that's not a good idea - mmm," Huck was saying to the caller. He was scratching his chin and looking frantically around the canteen. He caught Camille's eye and mouthed at her, but she put her hands out, shrugging her shoulders in confusion.

Who wanted to know where they were? What wasn't a good idea? The two questions were spinning round Camille's head but no answers were forthcoming.

"C-can one of you -" she began nervously, only to be interrupted by her cell phone ringing in her bag.

Pulling her phone out, she saw it was Jess calling. Harrison instantly snatched the phone and switched it off.

"Hey - " she began to protest.

"You'd better look at this," he said seriously, shoving his cell phone in her direction. "Take it!" he demanded.

Staring in confusion at Harrison, she slowly took the phone to see why everyone had suddenly lost it.

Gasping out loud, and her eyes blinking shutter speed rate, Camille's head was rocking back and forth, as the words came flashing in and out of her mind:

Five heavily black typed words on the screen:

**_President Grant's Secret Lovechild Revealed_**

* * *

**AN: ****_Thanks for the thoughtful comments. Whoa! The big secret's out! Next chapter: Fitz finds out about the plan, a surprise visitor, and Camille leaves the hospital, but with who? I'm back to the grindstone (work!) next week so wanted to get the final part of this chapter out. I will do my best to stay on top of this story. Your reviews are welcome._**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators (-;_**


	12. Chapter 9 Hero(s) Part I

**Disclaimer: ****_I don't own 'Scandal'- I'm just messing with Shonda's stuff (again!)_**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Hero(s) Part I**

_You could be my someone  
You could be my scene  
You know that I'll protect you  
From all of the obscene  
I wonder what you're doing  
Imagine where you are  
There's oceans in between us  
But that's not very far_

_Blurry_ – Puddle of Mudd

**_President Grant's Secret Lovechild Revealed_**

The world exclusive article was short, about four or five paragraphs, accompanied by a close-up picture of her leaving the airport. Camille couldn't read it. A few words jumped out at her and that was all she could focus on:

_President Grant's Secret Lovechild…President Grant… fathered a child… Olivia Pope… daughter… Camille Pope…_

She collapsed further into her seat like she'd been punched in the stomach. People who claimed: _words can't hurt you_ were big fat liars, because she felt empty, sick and breathless. But she couldn't stop reading the same horrifying words over and over again.

_President Grant's Secret Lovechild… President Grant… fathered a child… Olivia Pope… daughter… Camille Pope_

Round and round on a loop; rotating faster and faster. Like a tornado, the words were spinning and hurtling towards her, crashing against her skull, breaking through every resistance she had built up in the last two weeks, and leaving her feeling like wisps of dust in its wake.

She jumped when Harrison's phone started ringing in her shaking hands. He took it from her and turned it off.

"Cam, Camille, - get away from her," he shouted, throwing his hands up at the couple, who had been one of the first people to spot Camille, and were up out of their seats, keen to take a closer look.

"Oh my God! It's really her. It's that Camille Pope girl, she's the President's daughter," the woman was screaming excitedly, pointing at Camille, and creating a stir among the other patrons.

"Cam, we've got to go," said Abby, looking icily at the couple. Their gleeful expressions faded. Abby put a protective arm around Camille and started shaking her firmly. "C'mon," she said, looking frantically around to see a few other curious faces peering over at their table.

"Yep, let's move, people," Harrison chipped in anxiously, "… before we find ourselves in the middle of a riot!"

"Harrison -" Huck began, but Abby cut him off.

"And fast, Cam, move, c'mon, get up – now!" Abby repeated to the shell-shocked youngster.

News was gathering pace and spreading throughout the cafe about the scandal involving former President Grant and his employee. People were whispering to each other in disbelief that his lovechild, the girl some of them had heard or read about, was actually sitting a few yards away, and adjusted their seats to get a better look. Some had taken to standing up and others clambering on top of chairs or rushing towards Camille, preparing their phone cameras for the photograph of the decade.

"I'm warning you -" Harrison said, pushing back a couple of guys, bold enough to get right up close.

Abby grabbed hold of her arm and tried pulling her up into a standing position, so they could attempt to make a quick dash for the exit.

But Camille was rooted to her seat. She couldn't move her lower body. She felt Abby shaking her and pulling at her, but she responded by flopping her head into her chest. She couldn't bear to face what felt like a million pairs of eyeballs gawping at her from every corner of the café. A prickly heat sensation was attacking every single pore throughout her body. She wished she could melt into the ground and never come back up.

Why? Who would do this to her? Expose her like this? Ruin her life in such a dramatic fashion? Was it someone who hated her at school? Her head swayed, and she felt dizzy from the bombardment of questions she couldn't answer. She wanted to run and hide for a thousand years, but physical movement was lost to her.

Shifting bodies, shouting voices, and flickering camera lights invaded the space around her. Camille's head and shoulders sunk lower and lower down, as she desperately tried to make herself appear smaller, in the hope she might eventually disappear.

Harrison and Huck were doing their best to shove the intrusive offenders back and block their view of Camille at the same time.

"I can't get her to move," Abby called out to both guys above the noisy din.

Harrison turned to Camille, and started clicking his fingers and clapping his hands in front of her.

"Cam, _Cam_, _we've got to_ -" he bellowed at her.

"No wait," Huck interrupted.

He wasn't looking at either Abby or Harrison, but stopped to stare at the entrance to the café pulsating with an excited crowd of people, crammed together like a swarm of bees: pointing and shouting, and waving their phones. Abby and Harrison quickly followed Huck's eye line.

Suddenly, loud male authoritarian voices could be heard and the crowd began to retreat. Tom and Bill, followed by numerous hospital security guards, came charging into the cafe and immediately began using their muscular frames and deep voices to control the bustling crowd, ordering them to: "Get back!" and "Make way!". The sound of tables and chairs screeching across the floors could be heard against blaring voices, as the men set about creating a clear line of space in the direction of Camille's table.

Seconds later Fitz's imposing stature turned a perfect ninety-degree angle into the Starbucks entrance. He was greeted by whooping cheers and shouts from dumbstruck diners, lunging forward to get a closer look at their former President, and observe, first-hand, the scandalous scene unfolding before their incredulous eyes. He managed to keep a steady pace between his hastily assembled security team's human walls. He kept his eyes looking straight ahead, blocking out the crowd's vocal cries:

"Oh my God."

"Mr. President."

"Here comes Bill Clinton the Second."

"Is she your daughter?"

"What about your wife?"

"You're a disgrace!"

"Go Grant."

He was completely detached from their opinionated outbursts. His piercing blue eyes constantly fixed straight ahead looking for Camille. He spotted her. She was covering her ears with her hands. Her head was bent so low she looked like she was about to topple out of her chair. His stepped up his pace.

Deciding to come and rescue her from first public assault was impulsive. Ten minutes ago his former Chief of Staff, Cyrus Beane, had been on the phone ranting furiously at him, calling him reckless and selfish. He added some rather colorful expletives, and when he realized he was fighting a losing battle, hung up on Fitz.

Okay, his behavior was downright impetuous. If Livvie were awake to witness his actions, she'd probably be screaming blue murder at him. But he was doing what any father would do, he told himself. Livvie in her heart of hearts would want him to protect their baby girl. The ramifications would be catastrophic – that was a given. But so what? Camille already hated him. In his eyes it couldn't get any worse. She'd probably be freaking out, right now, but he had to come and protect his own.

"Oh, my God, I don't believe it," croaked Abby, her voice barely audible, as she watched in wide-eyed amazement, the man she loved-to-hate, take charge, in a manner that seem too inconceivable.

"What the fuck? Holy shit!" exclaimed Harrison.

In the muffled distance, and from her head bent posture, Camille could hear men shouting at the top of their lungs, and the general mayhem ripping through the cafe. But that wasn't what caught her attention as she stared at the ground. Among the marching shiny black shoes heading towards her, Camille could make out a distinctive pair of long legs striding across the room - left right, left right, left right - with purpose and intent. For the first time, she dared to slowly raise her head and soon found herself taking several stuttering, rasping breaths. Her chocolate eyes blinking wildly, unable to fully take in a view that seemed like something out of the movies. Because he sure looked the part of a movie star: tall, handsome, powerful and strong, and zooming in like some kinda superhero. She didn't know whether to feel scared, angry or relieved.

Before she had time to work through her mixed bag of emotions, he was kneeling down in front of her, and gazing up into her doll-like eyes. His own eyes were filled with concern and worry.

"Hey Camille… I'm so sorry… come with me… let me take you to your mom," said Fitz earnestly, holding out his arms to her.

Without thinking, she reached out and slipping from her chair, curled her arms around his massive shoulders, and collapsed into his protective embrace. He swept her up in his arms and pulled her close to his chest, placing one arm around her legs and the other around her back. He took a breath and stood up, and spun round in one graceful flowing motion - to face the exit.

His head of security, Tom, looked sternly at him, his eyes signaling they should leave. Security could only do so much before it was total chaos. Fitz didn't move. Tom prompted him with a nod of his head indicating they had to go – now!

Fitz ignored him.

What he was about to do would also be classed as reckless and selfish. He didn't care. Everything was already out of control. He was headline news. What difference would it make - all things considered - to take a minute and simply hold Camille? Let her know he understood how frightened she was, and he had come to save and protect her - now and forever.

So he paused. Closing his eyes, he tilted his face to rest against her hair, and inhaling deeply could smell hints of coconut and papaya, and the salty sea in her soft curly locks. The scent was comforting; akin to inhaling a newborn baby's head - glorious and wholesome. This wasn't any baby, but his precious baby girl.

He'd waited nearly five years. Five years since Livvie admitted to him they had a child together. Five years to hold his Camille close to his heart. So let them say what they had to say, and take their best camera shot. _No one_ was going to prevent him taking his time - even in the mist of a frenzied café – to let his love shine through for his child.

Pressing the palm of his hand into her back, he began gently soothing her, caressing and rocking her; he squeezed her tightly, so savoring the moment he held his daughter in his arms for the first time.

In response she buried her head into the nape of his neck. With her skinny arms tightly encircled around his shoulders, she pulled him as close to her as possible, clinging tightly. He could feel her ragged breaths against his skin, and her butterfly heartbeats fluttering against his chest.

A moment later they both took a sharp inhale feeling a sudden rush of energy as their hearts aligned to beat in sync.

**AN: ****_Big thanks for your last reviews. I really do appreciate all the support for a story where the main character isn't playing an active role - yet! Fitz had to make a big gesture. Yes? No? And what about Camille's reaction? I decided to publish this chapter in three parts because I felt father and daughter deserved 'one minute' before it all kicks off. I would love to know what you guys think so far._**


	13. Chapter 9 Hero(s) Part II

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_'Scandal'_**** I'm just messing with Shonda's stuff (again!)**

**Chapter 9**

**Hero(s) Part II**

_Hmm_

_There's a hero_

_If you look inside your heart_

_You don't have to be afraid_

_Of what you are_

_There's an answer_

_If you reach into your soul_

_And the sorrow that you know_

_Will melt away, hey_

_Hero_ - Mariah Carey

* * *

Fitz never let go of Camille.

The bustling crowds, noisy cries and flashing cameras couldn't deter him from his mission to keep her in his arms, and get her safely back to Olivia's ward. He walked tall, feeling proud he'd gone with his natural instinct to rescue Camille from her nightmare ordeal. He knew if a similar situation presented itself again, he'd react in the same way, with no hesitation.

Camille never let go of Fitz.

She kept her arms locked around his shoulders, her head buried and eyes squeezed tightly shut. It came as a shock to her how easily she fell into his arms, and instinctively trusted him to protect her. To want to be close enough to touch him and be held in his arms felt wonderful and comforting – considering most of the time she could barely tolerate being in the same room as him. There was something so natural, so right, about accepting him as her protector.

* * *

When they arrived on Olivia's ward, Tom led the way, with Fitz and Camille following closely behind. Bill stayed back with hospital security to devise a final exit strategy.

Making their way to the communal room, they were met by Olivia's medical team, as well as the hospital's management and media staff. They were lined up against the corridor wall and their faces were a combination of empathetic and sheepish smiles, as father and daughter walked by.

The hospital prided itself on delivering a high standard of patient care, especially concerning its fee-paying private customers - like a former US President.

Before his café rescue mission the hospital manager had spoken to Fitz. She assured him a full internal inquiry was already underway and offered him the option of changing Olivia's medical team, and a discretionary reduction regarding his current hospital bill.

Dr Ramen and a young blonde woman stepped forward to speak to Fitz.

"Sir, Mr. Grant, is there anything I can get for you?" asked the doctor.

"I'd like a glass of water, thank you," Fitz requested in a flat tone.

"Of course, but I was thinking, your, I-I mean, I can imagine Camille's had quite a shock, would you like me to take a look -"

"Just the water will be fine."

"Hello, Mr Grant," said the young blonde woman, as she nervously held out pink slips of paper. "You've got phone messages from your sons, Mrs. Grant, Cyrus Beane… er, Ms. Pope's mother and sister called numerous times; and your PA, Gabrielle Isner, says it's urgent she speaks with you."

Isn't every telephone message urgent? thought Fitz.

"I'll deal with my messages later, thank you," he said, refusing to slow down his pace for anyone.

The communal room was fitted with wall to ceiling glass panels spanning the length of the oval shape room. The entrance door was sensor operated and as soon as Tom came within a few yards it automatically opened. He stepped aside, allowing Fitz and Camille to enter the spacious room, and enjoy a private moment after the mayhem on the third floor.

Fitz gently put her down on a large leather couch. Her upper body flopped around like a rag doll, and she seemed completely disorientated.

Camille groaned, feeling light headed and swayed as though she were going to faint. Fitz seized her upper arms and she grabbed hold of him, digging her fingers into his arms so tightly, he could feel her pinching his skin through his shirt.

"I-I-I," she began breathlessly stuttering, over and over again.

"It's okay… you're safe… breath… take your time, and breath, slowly. We're back on the ward… no one can get to you in here… it's just you and me," he reassured her, speaking in a low whisper.

Everything's okay, she thought, trying to compute the dramatic events that had occurred in the past hour or so.

But everything wasn't okay. Her big secret had come out kicking and screaming. Everyone knew former President, Fitzgerald Grant III was her Father. He practically said as much when he saved her in Starbucks. Nothing would be the same again. Life as she knew it was over. And what would her Mom say? The secret she vowed she'd never reveal to a soul was currently broadcasting all over the world. Camille imagined how furious Olivia would be if she were awake.

She started sobbing.

"Camille," Fitz said gently.

She began shaking her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

Fitz sighed softly. "Camille, please look at me."

In triple slow motion she lifted up her head to reveal teary eyes and quivering lips. She opened her mouth, trying to form words to speak, but only succeeded in taking in huge gulps of air.

"Don't rush… take your time… what is it you want to say?"

Camille's luminous brown eyes scanned his face as though she were seeing him for the first time.

"You… you c-came to get me…" she said in a listless tone.

"Yes, as soon the story broke, I called Huck and came to find you," he explained seriously.

"M-my Mom's gonna be real mad at you."

Fitz couldn't help it. He chuckled at her, and smiled ruefully. She was thinking like a true Pope woman.

"Probably, but I think I can handle it," he told her in good humor.

She felt a sickening feeling bubbling around in her gut and wrapping her arms round her stomach, began rocking back

and forth, hoping to ease the waves of torturous agony.

"You don't understand… I'm gonna get in so much trouble."

Fitz's smile faded. His brow crinkled with concern, as he moved in closer.

"Camille, listen to me, none of what's happening is your fault. You're not to blame." He felt stunned she considered herself responsible for the sensational scandal surrounding her parents.

But it didn't matter what he said; as far Camille was concerned she was culpable.

"It's my fault, arguing with you, yelling at you, I-I know someone heard me, a-and… and in the café… when you…" she trailed off, still not quite believing.

"When I came to get you… you were in trouble, and I thought things could get out of hand, so I had to come. I couldn't leave you to face those people by yourself."

How did he not understand, she thought. Her Mom knew and understood the devastating consequences if the truth ever came out. It all made perfect sense to Camille after today's events. She understood why her Mom kept her secret and hidden away.

Fitz could see her mind frantically working overtime.

"Camille, you're not in any trouble," he reiterated. "I wanted to come and get you. Me. I took the decision alone, and I take full responsibility."

"D-don't you care what people are going to say?"

"No I don't care what people are going to say. I told you the first time we met, I love you, and I've got so much to make up to you. You're as important to me as any of my other children. I'm happy with the choice I made this evening. I did the right thing."

"W-what's going to happen to me?"

"I'm going to look after you - that's what's going to happen. You come with me tonight, and I promise to keep you safe."

"Please… I'm sorry, but I wanna go home… I wanna go home," she begged him.

"Home, back to New York?" Fitz took a deep breath. "Camille, I know how frightened you must be feeling, but I can't take you back. Even if I wanted to your house is probably surrounded by -"

The door swooshed open, and interrupted their conversation.

Fitz's head shot round, and his facial expression changed into a grimace seeing Dr. Ramen enter the room.

"How's she doing?" asked the doctor, looking at Camille sympathetically.

"She's in shock," Fitz replied tersely, standing up and taking the ice cold bottled Fiji water from him. "Thank you."

"Mr. Grant, Camille, I would like to say, once again, we're determined to find out who's responsible for leaking private hospital information about your personal circumstances."

"Thank you doctor, we'll be fine now."

Dr. Ramen turned to leave and paused, to looked back at Fitz.

"I'm sorry to keep bothering you, but your eldest son, Gerry called again."

Fitz took a silent deep breath, nodded and watched the doctor leave. Removing the lid, he handed the bottle to Camille.

"Drink this, it'll make you feel better."

She gratefully accepted the drink, and as soon as the icy water touched her lips she drank thirstily.

"Look, I've got to call Gerry."

She stopped drinking and looked up at him panic stricken. He leaned over from the waist and cupped her cheek. "It's okay, don't worry, I'll be back soon."

She closed her eyes, and nodded with relief.

Fitz stood and turned to leave, but took a surprise step back when he saw Bill and the three Gladiators approaching.

Sir," said the agent entering the room, "I've been informed by hospital security Mr. Stephen Finch has arrived, they want to know if he should be given clearance?"

Fitz sighed heavily. He didn't want to let anyone in the room. He'd shared his first special moment with Camille, and he needed some privacy to talk about the story and how he would handle the exposure in the coming weeks. But everything seemed to be slowly unravelling, with Camille's Gladiator family back, and the added pressure of having to deal with the arrival of 'honorary father' Stephen Finch.

"My Uncle's here?" asked Camille, suddenly perking up.

Fitz closed his eyes briefly. After a second or two he looked back resignedly at Bill, and gave an approving nod.

"Cam," Abby called out hesitantly. She slowly walked over feeling unsure about how to approach her after Fitz's antics in the café. "Cam, honeybee, you alright?"

"I think she needs a minute to calm down a little…" Fitz said carefully.

Abby didn't acknowledge his advice. She walked passed him and sat down next to Camille on the couch. Huck and Harrison deliberately look at Fitz and both men gave approving head nods, letting him know they fully agreed with his earlier actions. He did a quick shrug of his shoulders like it was no big thing, but inwardly felt pleased they approved.

Leaving the room Fitz looked back and saw Harrison join Camille and Abby on the couch, and the three Gladiators showering her with kindness. His eyes narrowed and his jaw flexed, watching their affectionate display. He felt caught between wanting to remain connected to Camille and speaking to Gerry. But he had to make the call, so he quickly turned and pulling out his cell phone, switched it on and called up Gerry's number.

"Hello," said a male voice down the phone.

"Hey son," said Fitz, walking down the busy corridor.

"How ya doin' Clark Kent," laughed Gerry.

Fitz smiled.

* * *

Ten minutes later Fitz re-entered the room to hear Camille still tearfully blaming herself and asking the Gladiators to take her home.

"Everybody knows… I'm in trouble with Mom, she's gonna think it's my fault - you know how mad she gets. How can this day have gone so bad? I just wanna be home, in my room," she pleaded tearfully.

Hugging Camille closely to her, Abby kissed her temple. Looking up she locked eyes with Fitz, and a thin triumphant smile crossed her lips.

Fitz looked blankly at Abby, doing his best to keep a neutral expression on his face. He wouldn't let her see he felt wounded and wanted to dash across the room, pick up Camille again, and run.

He didn't expect miracles after their first father and daughter moment, but it pained him to see his daughter back with Olivia's bunch of smarty-pants-crusaders so readily, and asking to go home.

"When did you first hear about the story?" Harrison asked Fitz. He stood up and went to stand beside Huck.

"About twenty minutes after you left. I got a call from my lawyers and Cyrus about the breaking news. The guy's a local freelance journo called Frank Bourne, who claims to have a source connected to the hospital. He's obviously been following Camille and you guys… the picture of Camille was taken on Wednesday, the day Anne and Donald flew to Atlanta. His contact could be a nurse, doctor, a cleaner - take your pick. Camille and I have been here from the get-go… anyone could've put two and two together -"

"And boom goes the dynamite," Harrison finished.

"How much did he get for the picture of Camille?" queried Huck.

"Enough not to have to worry about freelancing for a while, I bet," sneered Abby.

"It's the first picture – so it's gone global."

When Fitz stated the six-figure fee, Camille's head shot up and her eyes widened like two saucers in total disbelief.

Was he seriously saying that someone actually paid that much money for a picture of her? This really is a crazy world she thought.

He nodded and raised his eyebrows confirming the lengths people will go to for a news story of this magnitude - especially when the story concerns a former Republican President and an out of wedlock child.

"I need info on this journalist to run a full background check, and see what I can dig up. I'll also need the hospital's access logs to this wing, CCTV, computer and phone records," said Huck pulling a small hand device out of his pocket.

"This is crazy, I'm being spied on," Camille cried, shaking in Abby's arms.

"Based on what just happened in Starbucks, what are your immediate plans?" asked Harrison, scratching his head wearily.

"I made the decision to collect Camille, leaving no room for ambiguity. I -"

"Ya think? You've gone viral." Abby interrupted him rudely.

Abby felt Camille's body shudder against her and she squeezed her shoulders. "It's okay, we'll work something out, don't worry."

Pow! Just like that, Camille thought. He'd gone from keeping her out of sight to announcing to the world they were related: father and daughter! And it terrified her as much as finding out about her Mom's accident.

"We need to get Cam out of here A-SAP," said Abby firmly.

"And take her where?" asked Harrison. "This place is crawling with local, national and international T.V. networks. On the way up here, I spotted cameras and reporters circling the hospital like sharks. I take it your guys are working on an exit strategy?" he directed his question at Fitz.

"Yes, security is working on sealing off parts of the hospital," he confirmed.

"Shit! Sorry Cam, but I'm thinking how comes we didn't get any warning about this?" wondered Harrison.

"He must have some pretty hard evidence to guarantee any newspaper or broadcaster would run with this story," Abby said, pursing her lips together, and looking coldly at Fitz.

"Anyway, our first priority is Cam… what's the plan?" asked Harrison.

Fitz and Huck exchanged looks.

Camille knew what she wanted: to go back in time when none of this drama existed, and she was plain old, unknown, Camille Pope. She visualised herself propped up in bed drawing or reading some teen novel, and Mom downstairs in their living room watching the news, with a glass of red wine in one hand.

"Huck…" began Abby.

"She should go stay with her dad," said Huck quietly.

Camille snapped out of her wishful thinking and looked anxiously at Huck.

"No, Huck, please… I'm begging you, take me home?" cried Camille. Huck shuffled over to her and knelt down.

"Camille, I know this seems unfair, but I'm telling you as a friend and a professional, the safest place for you tonight is your dad's place. Things are about to get crazy. We," he stopped to look at Abby and back at Camille, "… need to do what's best for you, which is keep you safe. Your dad can do that at his place," he said looking seriously into the young girl's frightened eyes. "You're a clever girl Cam, you know I would never tell you to do something unless I was one hundred percent sure it was the right thing to do."

Camille wished she could argue with Huck but deep down she knew he was right. She dropped her head as fresh tears filled her eyes, recognising she was way out of her depth.

"Let us handle this for you."

"So everyone's okay with packing Camille off to live with a stranger?" Abby said coldly to Huck.

Fitz glared at Abby. His breathing quickened, and he wondered how long he could keep his temper in check before he completely lost it with this Mellie impersonator.

"Sorry, but you are," she told him ruthlessly.

"I live on two hundred and fifty acres of private land and have access to some of the finest security in the world. That's the sort of protection I can offer my daughter. Do you have these types of resources at your disposal?" Fitz challenged Abby. "Oh, did I forget to mention I'm a former Navy Seal?"

Abby rolled her eyes and ignored him and looked at Harrison.

"We have a rental house no one knows about. We can take Cam there. Harrison - couldn't you speak to your contact about moving in tonight?"

Harrison looked sternly at Abby and shaking his head, did a low whistle.

Fitz took a deep rolling inhale, which sounded like a gale force wind howling through the room and sent a chill through everyone.

The two H's and Camille exchanged guilty looks and Abby pouted defiantly.

Fitz started clenching his fists at his sides, his nerves were twitching and his body started to rock as a burning rage took over.

"What rental house?" he asked, his voice dropping to sub zero temperatures.

"We decided to rent a house while we were out here, and Cam wanted to come stay with us. It's ready -"

"_Let me understand this_," Fitz thundered at Abby, causing Camille to jump back in her seat. "_You've been conspiring to commit a felony, which involved kidnapping my daughter?_"

"To be fair, we were going to discuss the rental idea with you," Harrison said, trying to cut through the icy atmosphere sweeping through the room.

"But you didn't. You've already served time haven't you Harrison? Clearly you have a taste for our penal system," Fitz spat at him.

"Hey -" Harrison began hotly.

"No!' shouted Camille, flying out of her seat and rushing towards Fitz. "Don't blame them, it was me," she sobbed.

"Camille, please, go to your mother's room," said Fitz between clenched teeth, with a thin smile.

She didn't move, instead she looked anxiously around the room at the Gladiators and Fitz.

"It's okay Cam, we'll be fine, go sit with Liv," Abby reassured her, getting up.

"Please, no more fighting," she begged Fitz.

He relaxed his shoulders and smiled warmly at her. He could see signs of distress etched across her pretty face, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel responsible for Abby's devious behaviour.

He cleared his throat and took a deep inhale and released a slow calm exhale.

"We're just going to talk, okay? Go see your mom, and I'll let you know when your uncle arrives," he said quietly.

Still unsure, she didn't move. Fitz gave her a nod indicating she should leave, and very slowly she left the room as the adults watched her in silence.

Fitz jammed his hands in his pockets took an angry breath and turned to Huck.

"Huck, can you liaise with security and confirm an exit time? Let them know you're to have access to any information you need. They can speak to me if there's a problem."

Huck nodded and left the room.

Fitz turned to Harrison.

"I need you to call Olivia's family and let them know Camille is safe and coming home with me tonight, and I'll be in touch once she's settled in. Get hold of Cyrus and my PA, Gabrielle Isner to work on a statement confirming I'll be holding a press conference tomorrow, and in the meantime the Grant and Pope families would ask the media to respect our privacy. I need to know what kind of feedback the story is generating, and if they haven't already, inform my office to start a monitoring and evaluation process. There's a list of messages, which should've the numbers you need, thank you."

Harrison nodded and turned to Abby.

Fitz also switched his attention to Abby, and his stormy grey eyes were raining down on her in sheer disgust.

"Fine, Abby, we -" Harrison began.

"_No!_" shouted Fitz, cutting across Harrison, who froze on the spot. "Ms. Whelan and I are going to have a little chat, aren't we Ms. Whelan?"

* * *

"Didn't I make myself clear to you when we first spoke? I told you I had no intention of losing my daughter a second time," he said slowly walking towards her, as Abby braced herself for the coming hurricane. "But you felt bold enough, or should I say _dumb_ enough to decide to kidnap her?"

"Don't exaggerate, we weren't kidnapping Camille, she's-"

"_A child, my child, not yours_," his baritone voice bellowed furiously at her, causing Abby to jerk back and look worriedly into his steely stone-grey eyes. "Do you honestly think I'd stand by and let you walk out of this hospital with Camille and that would be it? How far do you think you'd get without an AMBER Alert going out, and you and your buddies arrested and your asses thrown in jail, facing child kidnapping charges and more."

"Camille doesn't know you, she doesn't trust you and she wants to live with us the people she knows _and trusts_."

"Camille is a child, whose mother's life is hanging by a thread, and she's meeting me for the first time. She's scared and confused, and you haven't been making the situation any easier for her. In fact, I'd go as far as to say you've been deliberately manipulating her - a child - you must feel proud of yourself."

"I've been protecting Cam. She doesn't want to be around you, you heard what she said, she wants to go home, and I don't think she means daddy's ranch."

"Like most of us when we're ill or anxious, she has a homing instinct. But you and I both know, Camille can't go back to New York."

"So you think dragging her off to live with you, a man she's known for five minutes, is the right thing to do? Not to mention how your DAR wife, Mrs. Grant, is going to feel about Olivia Pope's daughter living under the same roof as her."

"She may've only just met me, but I got her out of that café. She trusted me enough to come with me."

"Sorry, was I supposed to be impressed by your _Superman_ routine?"

"Do you hear how pathetic you sound? My child was in trouble and I went to help her – it's what any parent would do."

"You're still a stranger," she continued stubbornly.

"And whose fault is that Ms. Whelan? Does Camille know how instrumental you were in keeping her away from me, her own father? How you sabotaged my every move to find her. That you never once let her know, I made every effort to find her? Did you pass on the cards, letters and gifts I brought over the years to let her know I was always thinking about her? No, you were happy to let her believe I didn't care."

"You did a pretty good job of that yourself."

"I did everything in my power to find her, I employed agents and private detectives worldwide to look for Camille. But with your help, Olivia and Camille disappeared without a trace."

"That's right, Liv disappeared and didn't want you to find her or Cam, and we both know the reason why, so don't play the wide-eyed innocent game with me. You lied and cheated and broke Olivia's heart over and over again. She didn't have any choice but to run and get far away from you and your _pregnant wife_."

Fitz took a deep breath and his eyes narrowed.

"You want to play the morality card with me? The last time I checked-in you Gladiators are guilty of intimidation, grand theft auto, breaking and entering, fraud, torture – basically circumventing any law to get what you want."

"Sounds like we should've been working in the West Wing."

Fitz scoffed at her, but his eyes and facial expression grew serious.

"Have you considered what would happen to Camille… if-if Livvie doesn't pull through? Who would become her primary carer you, Harrison, Huck? Bearing in mind the chaotic lives you lead.

"I would be Camille's only living parent, and you would deny her a chance to be with her father and family? How fucking twisted are you? Did you pick up some of your former husband's traits?"

"Don't you talk about -"

"Your violent, psycho former husband? The man who turned you into this warped person, who's so angry at the world? It's blinded you to the point it destroyed your relationship with David Rosen. He's engaged now isn't he? Is that why you're hell bent on turning my daughter into a mini-me version of you?"

"My marriage and David has nothing to do with Camille. A long time ago Olivia asked us to protect her daughter from you. And after today, we know why!"

"You said it: a long time ago. You are _not_ privy to all the details of my relationship with Olivia, so I'll key you in on a few facts: Mrs. Grant and I are divorced, have been since I stepped down as President. For the past year Olivia and I have been quietly working on our relationship. We didn't tell anyone, as we wanted to be sure we were in a good place, before making any kind of announcement. A month ago Livvie agreed to be my wife and as soon as she's well enough, we're going to be married. That's our future plan, and you're going to have to deal with that if you want to be a part of Camille's life."

"Liv asked -"

"Olivia _did not_ ask you to come to California and stir things up between me and my daughter. I'm not stupid, I know I've got a hell of a long way to go with Camille, but I'm willing to put in the time and effort to build a relationship with her. It won't be easy, but I love my daughter, and it'll be worth it in the end."

Abby was barely able to take in everything fired at her. Divorced from his wife, back with Liv and Liv agreeing to marry him. The last man she knew Olivia to be romantically involved with had been the handsome dentist guy, Jake Ballard. No mention she was back in touch with Grant. Abby felt completely on the back foot.

"So you have two choices," Fitz continued. "You can stay and support Camille through this emotional rollercoaster ride she's on, or you can fly your ass back to DC and try screwing up someone else's life. This is your last warning Ms. Whelan, the gloves are off and I'm not someone you want to tangle with. You. Do. Not. Want. To. Mess. With. Me."

"Everything I've ever done for Camille, I did to protect her from exactly this type of scenario she's facing," said Abby defensively.

"I understand, but the secret's out and there's no turning back. I always planned to have my daughter come and live with me; today's events have not changed those plans. I don't care what happens to me politically or socially, Camille is coming home with me."

"Fine. That's your choice, but don't you dare accuse me of not having Camille's best interests at heart. I love that little girl like family."

Fitz sighed heavily and his expression softened, looking at Olivia's friend. She would never be one of his favorite people, but he knew Abby cared, and how much Camille loved Abby and the others. And if he could help it, he wouldn't deprive Camille the Gladiators' friendship and love.

"Then stay and support Camille through this… because she's going to need her Aunt Abby."

* * *

**AN: ****_Pretty shell-shocked by the awesome reviews for Part I - big thank you to everyone. Due to my 'spur of the moment' father/daughter scene, I had to re-write/re-think a few ideas, so this chapter is coming in three parts. Love to know your thoughts on this latest update!_**

**_Thank you Sarah T for proofing this update and the rest. Top Girl! x_**

**_Happy Reading to all Gladiators! (-;_**


	14. Chapter 9 Hero(s) Part III

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_'Scandal'_**** but I can dream… can't I?**

**AN: ****_Okay, it's a big update. Sorry! That damn father/daughter minute has me in a spin! _**

**Chapter 9**

**Hero(s) Part III**

_There are certain people you just keep coming back to_

_She is right in front of you_

_You begin to wonder could you find a better one_

_Compared to her now she's in question_

_And all at once the crowd begins to sing_

_Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same_

_All At Once_ – The Fray

He shouldn't have a go at Abby, Camille thought, as she entered Olivia's room. He knew she was behind the decision not to tell him about the rental house. Maybe she should go back, and try to explain. But he didn't seem like he was in a listening kind of mood, and this evening's madness had left her too exhausted to defend herself or anyone else.

In a bizarre way being back in her Mom's room proved to be the perfect tonic, away from the chaos and noise taking place just yards away. There was a sense of calm Camille took comfort in. Pulling up a chair, she sat down and got as close to Olivia as possible, without disturbing the wires on her chest or the drips attached to her hand. Olivia looked so peaceful to Camille. Lowering her head to the bed, she closed her eyes and pushed hard against the negative thoughts flooding through her mind. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she began talking to Olivia. She kept repeating how sorry and responsible she felt about revealing their secret, and how much she loved and wanted Olivia to get better. And finally, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Abby and Fitz's conversation concluded, with the Gladiator agreeing to join Harrison to help with calls, and contacting the press on Fitz's behalf regarding his official statement.

Fitz sank back into the couch. He took a couple of deep breaths, and pressing his fingers into his tired-looking eyes, started rubbing in a circular motion. His confrontation with Abby had left him beat. He wanted to take a minute to regroup before he dealt with the next urgent task: speaking to Mellie, and convincing her to fly back to California. But first things first: getting Camille home.

He leaned forward, and placing his elbows on his knees ran his hands across his face, and let out an exasperated low whistle. Looking up, his gaze fell on the glass door, and he noticed Stephen Finch approaching. He sighed deeply. To be fair, his last few interactions with Stephen had gone well. He genuinely liked Olivia's friend. A long time ago, he'd come to accept the fact Stephen had been a great father figure to Camille, and knew she thought the world of her uncle. He didn't have a problem with Stephen, but tonight that could all change.

Three down one, to go, he thought, as he clambered to his feet, to greet Olivia's latest visitor.

He watched Tom approach Stephen, and exchanged pleasantries with the tall slim Englishman, who was looking at Fitz through the glass door.

Both men caught each other's eyes, smiled and tipped their heads in acknowledgement.

Fitz beckoned him to come in.

Seconds later, Stephen entered, and Fitz walked a few steps to greet him.

"Hello Stephen, good to see you," he said warmly, reaching out to shake Stephen's hand.

"Good evening," replied Stephen.

Fitz couldn't help smiling inwardly at his accent. Talking to him always made he feel as though he were on a state visit to England, and conversing with the British Prime Minister, David Cameron.

The door was still open and Fitz called out to his No. 1 agent.

"Tom, unless it's one of my children, I don't want to be interrupted," Fitz instructed.

"Sir," said Tom, with a nod of the head.

"Take a seat," he offered Stephen.

Stephen walked over to collect one of the comfy armchairs, positioned in the far corner. He took hold of the chair and dragged it closer to the couch, where Fitz had resumed his earlier seated position.

"I've just seen Abby, and she didn't look too happy," Stephen commented, sitting down and crossing his legs.

"Ms. Whelan and I had to straighten out a few things, but we're on the same page now."

"So... the secret we tried to keep buried for thirteen years, finally sees the light of day," declared Stephen, with a heavy exhale, and shaking his head in regret.

"Yes..." said Fitz, running his hand through his hair. "I imagine it's crazy out there?"

"From the airport to the hospital - it's Grant mania. You wouldn't think we were in the middle of a real crisis, and could be at war with Syria any day now. Do you have any idea who's behind the leak?"

"I have a couple of theories, but my main concern is Camille."

"Where is Cam, how's she doing?"

"She's pretty shaken up. She's with her mom. I thought she could do with some quiet time after the earlier commotion."

"Yes, of course, it makes sense. And Liv…?"

"No change since the operation... she's stable," Fitz said with a sad smile.

"How are you doing?"

Fitz took a deep breath.

"Feels like I'm back with the troops in the Middle East. But I'm okay. I'm working on getting Camille out of this place, without too much fuss."

"You're definitely taking Camille back to the ranch with you?"

Fitz eyed Stephen worriedly. "Uh-huh…"

"How does she feel about that?"

"She wants to go home - back to New York. But that's impossible… she needs my secret service agents, and complete privacy. My place is the only real option. Huck agrees, the ranch is the best place," he explained doggedly, as though he were trying to convince himself his actions were justifiable.

"Can I ask, how much have you told Cam about you and Liv?"

"Not a lot. Tonight is the first time since Livvie's accident she's allowed me to get close."

"And it couldn't have come at a better time… what a rescue! Pure Hollywood!" exclaimed Stephen.

Fitz looked cautiously at him, and smiled sheepishly.

Stephen returned Fitz's look with a toothy grin, and raised his hand to salute his bravery.

"No, seriously, I was impressed. The way you took control of the situation, and stormed in like you were reliving your Navy Seal days. Search and Rescue in Starbucks - a Mocha Frappuccino is never going to taste the same again! Among the gossip, I overhead a few people praising your actions, one woman called you the ultimate alpha male. I think you may've earned yourself some serious brownie points, without realizing it."

"I -"

"Went with your gut?"

"I had a 'Pope' moment," joked Fitz, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious.

"How are your people taking the news?"

"Cyrus is having his second heart attack, Mellie's probably having her first - here's hoping. Sorry, that's mean, considering where we are," he quickly added, embarrassed by his flippant remark.

"C'mon, we can afford to inject a little humor into the proceedings," Stephen gently laughed, before sobering up. "And your children, how are they coping?"

"Honestly, the kids have been fantastic… Gerry's been on the phone calling me Clark Kent. I haven't spoken to Karen yet, but I'm sure it'll be fine. It's been a long road with the eldest two, they love their mom, but they've always known we were never happy. It helps they adore Liv - especially Karen. And Teddy, bless him, he's excited about having a new sibling - I think he's bored with the other two."

Fitz felt proud of his accomplishments in raising well-adjusted children, despite the complex troubles in their parents' lives.

"That must be a relief… it's a difficult balancing act, and could so easily have gone the other way," said Stephen, feeling relieved. At least Camille wouldn't be facing any hostility from her half siblings.

"You don't know how grateful I am… the one good thing to come out of this mess is my children… I'm a very lucky man."

"You are indeed. But sorry to rain on your parade, I heard from Huck… Camille's been giving you a hard time?"

"Yes, she's gone for the jugular more than once… a real quick thinker, with a smart mouth - she's her mother's daughter."

"I think we can attribute some of Camille's feisty attitude to her Grant DNA."

Fitz smirked as he recalled some of his own highly charged confrontations with his father, Big Jerry, during his teenage years and rolling into adulthood.

"Did Olivia tell you she does the two-eye rubbing thing, habit of yours?"

"Yes," said Fitz, grinning from ear to ear.

But in an instant, his smile faded, and he looked seriously at the other man. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?"

"Not treating me like the bogeyman."

"Hey, we're adults… I've done some things, and said a few things about you, I'm not exactly proud of. But I'd like to think I've... we've all moved on."

"Wish I could say the same thing about your former colleagues."

"They can be a little over zealous."

"A little?"

"C'mon, Fitz, you guys kept your relationship from virtually everyone, including Camille," said Stephen, raising his eyebrows in disapproval. "Huck is a little more clued-in, but they're still operating under the illusion Liv wants them to look after Camille."

"But I'm here now," replied Fitz defensively. "I want to take full responsibility for Camille. It's important I do this… she thinks I've known about her since she was born, and chose to ignore her - she hates me," he said hoarsely, and swallowed hard. "Do you know what it feels like to have your own child despise you?"

"Camille's lived a confusing life, one minute she's with Liv; next she's with me; then back with Liv. Not forgetting you… and your rather _unique _situation. Cam feels she doesn't belong, she feels unwanted, and the dirty secret in this scenario. I don't believe she hates you."

Fitz looked away and down, refusing to make eye contact with Stephen.

Stephen could see Fitz was in pain and racked with guilt. He continued to make his point.

"She's terribly hurt. She doesn't know you, so she's bound to be guarded. Camille lashing out at you is the best way she can protect herself against being hurt. Some professionals would say she's exhibiting signs of hypersensitivity. If you're serious about having a relationship with Cam, you're going to have accept she's going to be pissed, and you'll have to be patient. I know this isn't all down to you, Fitz, Olivia… well, Olivia thought she was doing the right thing keeping you in the dark about Camille."

"She was wrong. What you, Abby and the rest did was wrong, Stephen. But Olivia… we were together four years, and not one word. She had no right to keep my daughter from me. She should've told me, we could've worked things out."

"Okay, cards on the table, Fitz. Do you really think you could've engaged in a proper father/daughter relationship with Camille while you were President?"

"Yes." But his answer sounded hollow, as he if didn't quite believe it.

"You, a staunch Republican President? Give me a break. You stood on a platform, preaching family values, and anyone who didn't conform to you and your party's vision of marriage and children were constantly trashed. Were you prepared to juggle being Commander-in-Chief, and by that I mean, _risk everything_, to be a real father to your mixed-race child?"

"We'll never know Stephen, Olivia didn't give me the chance… I wanted to know Camille."

"But not enough to step down," Stephen commented dryly.

"When I fell in love with Livvie, stepping down was the dream - even before I found out about Camille. I wanted to quit after my first term, but there were outside forces controlling my destiny. You know I came under pressure from Mellie, Cyrus, Liv and the party faithful. And there was the question of my legacy. I had to deal with people saying: _You don't want to be a Jimmy-one-term-Carter. Winning a second term is an endorsement the people trust and believe in you_. I'd just won my second term, and made promises to the American people. I had obligations..."

"You also had a daughter."

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you… I-I messed up. Liv and I, we messed up, big time, concerning Camille. I hurt Liv, she hurt me, and Camille got caught in the middle. I didn't know if we could forgive each other, and yet, here I am."

"Yes, here you are... you've gone beyond the call of duty. Thank you, as Olivia's friend, I'm grateful."

"No thanks necessary, I'm looking after my family… I accept, I've let Camille down. Contrary to popular rumors, I'm not _Superman_; I can't go back in time and relive Camille's early years. The love and care you've extended to my daughter is precious, and I'm forever grateful. But I won't lie, it kills me I have none of my own memories. I never cradled her in my arms as a baby, watched her take her first steps, bathed her, read her a bedtime story, held her hand on her first day at kindergarten, cooked her my famous pancakes - I could go on. But I love Camille… she's always been in my heart. As soon as I saw her, I knew she was mine… she's the child I always imagined I'd have with Livvie… my sweet… she's all I'll have… if… if Livvie, d-doesn't make it… I can't lose Camille, I'm her father…" He began shaking his head. "I can't lose her, n-not twice, not again Stephen, I can't, I-I won't," his voice cracked, under the pressure bubbling up inside him, as he spoke his last few words.

Tears gathered in Fitz's eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. He cleared his throat – twice! He was struggling to hold back his emotions. But having a real conversation combined with dramas of the last two weeks, was suddenly taking its toll. He'd appeared strong and patient in the face of so much adversity. But when it came down to it, he was scared. Petrified he could lose everything important to him: the love of his life and the daughter he'd never known.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down rapidly. He stared up to the heavens, and took a quick deep inhale and exhale, as he tried to regain his composure.

Stephen's eyes softened in sympathy, witnessing the anguished state of a man trying desperately to hold it together.

"Fitz, tonight in front of the whole world, you held your daughter in your arms and showed Camille how much you cared… it's a start to healing your relationship. In your wildest dreams, you couldn't have imagined it would happen so dramatically, or as publicly as it did. But you came through. You need to give yourself a pat on the back."

Stephen shifted in his seat, and leaned forward. "Olivia's been so obsessed with micro-managing her professional life… she let it spill over and affect the two people she loves with all her heart… and it's caused severe consequences. She wanted you to meet Camille on her terms. Be Camille's father on her terms. I didn't agree with you guys not speaking to Camille -"

"We wanted to be sure," rushed out Fitz defensively.

"But still… it confirms Camille's feelings she's not important - an afterthought - in both your lives. Liv's accident has thrown her plans into disarray - fate intervened - and you and Camille, have quite literally, been thrown together."

"Does this mean you're not planning on taking Camille to London?"

"Is that why you think I've flown all the way to California? No, I haven't come to throw a spanner in the works. The agreement Georgia and I had with Olivia stipulated looking after Cam while you were President. But you and Liv are together, and from our conversations, she's happy, you both are. What's happened today doesn't alter the fact you and Liv want to be a real family - with Camille. Everything's on the table now: your marriage, your relationship with your former communications director, and your daughter - there's no reverse option. You laid Camilla Finch to rest... the moment you picked up Camille Grant in Starbucks."

Fitz took a long exhale, and it helped release the knots of tension from his body. His shoulders dropped, and he closed his eyes. Stephen's words rang so sweetly in his ears.

"You did what every little girl wishes her daddy would do, and what every daddy should do for his little girl. Take Cam with you tonight, you have my full backing."

"Stephen, I... I'm -"

"Look after Liv's baby - your baby."

"I'm not going to let my daughter down again," Fitz assured him, looking directly into Stephen's eyes.

"You'll have a bunch of crazies after you, if you do," he mocked. "Can I ask you a favor? Let her stay in touch with Abby and the guys? They're her family too. If you can arrange it, let her stay with them... they've got this rental house. She's going to need their support."

"I know how important they are to Camille. Between you and me, I did think about letting her go with them. But I thought, if this journo asshole followed them to the airport, he probably knows what hotel they're checked into, and details about the rental house too."

"I don't mean to sound presumptuous… maybe they could stay at your place?"

"I can make that happen. The last thing I want to do is isolate Camille, but I want my daughter with me. I'm not going to abandon her. I'm not giving her up. I'm sorry…"

"Fitz, you're thinking with your heart. Don't apologize - it's good to hear."

"Thank you, Stephen… I know you probably have more rights than me…"

"C'mon, a few legal papers - some courtesy of Huck's deft touch - doesn't give me rights when I'm looking at Camille's flesh and blood. You're a decent man."

"I'm working on it…"

"I should go and see..."

"Of course, I'd better get back to 'the madness that is Fitzgerald Grant the Third'. I appreciate the talk. Look, do you think it might help if you came back with us tonight… help Camille settle in?"

"I think it's important you and Cam make this journey without me. I'll work with the others tonight, and visit you guys tomorrow?"

Fitz looked at Stephen with a new mark of respect. He knew exactly what the other man was doing. Stephen could so easily have agreed, and say 'yes' he'd come. But he understood Fitz's desire to bond with Camille, and didn't want anything to affect the process.

"Sure… and thank you," said Fitz.

Both men stood up and looking each other in the eyes, they shook hands, firmly, acknowledging their high regard for each other.

* * *

Stephen opened the door quietly and gasped in shock seeing Olivia lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by medical equipment humming and buzzing. He closed the door and leaned against the frame, taking several breaths. The guys had told him she was in a pretty bad way, but this… seeing one of his dearest friends clinging to life, shook him to his core. He allowed himself a minute to gather his emotions, wanting to avoid Camille seeing his distress, considering the day she was having.

His gaze shifted to the young girl asleep next to her mom. He tiptoed over and stood watching her sleep. She looked blissful, and it pained him to have to wake her.

Camille murmured to when she felt a gentle prod on her shoulder. Turning her head she felt momentarily confused. She sat up with a start, blinking furiously as her eyes adjusted to the brilliant white lights. She looked up to see a blurry tall dark haired man smiling down on her. Suddenly her eyes were wide open and alert.

"Uncle Stephen. Oh…" she sobbed, getting up, and diving straight into his arms. She hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad you're here… is Aunt Georgia with you?" she asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"No, just me, poppet - sorry," he replied, rocking her in his arms. "Look at you… every time I see you, you seem to grow another inch, and so pretty," said Stephen, caressing her face.

Camille beamed up at him.

"I'm so glad you made it!"

"Where else would I be when two of my best girls need me?" Stephen said, planting a warm kiss on her forehead. "I'm so sorry, Cam sweetie," he said, as the two continued to embrace each other. "I'm so so sorry."

"Thanks," she whispered. "When did you get here?"

"About half an hour ago, I've been talking with your father," he said, smiling gently, and kissed the top of her head again. He'd missed her. "I didn't know when I could get away, that's why I didn't let you know I was coming."

"Doesn't matter, you're here now," she said sighing with relief.

They broke away, and walked over to the couch and sat down. Camille leaned back, and rested her head against his chest as he placed his arms around her.

"H-have-you, do you know about…?" she began tentatively.

"Yes, I heard the news as soon as I landed, everyone's talking about it… there's footage broadcasting from the airport flat screens of him holding you in Starbucks. You're famous," he said rubbing her shoulder.

Camille felt her face glowing deep red with embarrassment, and dropped her head.

"Hey, it's okay… it looked amazing, him speeding in there to save you. I was impressed - I didn't know he had it in him." Stephen told her honestly. "How did it make you feel when he came to get you?"

Camille shrugged her shoulders, feeling a little guilty talking to Stephen about her impulsive reaction to his heartfelt gesture.

"I don't know… I guess I was kinda surprised," she murmured.

"But a nice surprise… him coming to rescue you from all those people?"

She nodded in agreement. There could be no denying it. Looking back, she had to accept whatever she had said or thought about him, when it came to the moment of truth, he didn't turn his back on her. He came to her aid and didn't think twice about the consequences.

"Yeah, it was a pretty cool thing he did," she admitted.

Camille instantly smiled, and couldn't stop smiling, picturing his dazzling blue eyes radiating with love and compassion. In those few minutes, he'd miraculously taken away the fear paralyzing Camille, and guided her to safety. His actions were imprinted in her mind - something she would never forget.

"I heard he's making arrangements for you to go and stay with him at his ranch?"

"Yeah, Huck said it's the safest place for me. How long are you here?"

"Camille, I'm only here for ten days, and I've got to head back to London," he explained, feeling guilty he'd arrived in California a few hours ago, and was already talking about leaving. "I know things haven't been easy between the two of you."

"Um…no… I've avoided him, or been yelling at him," she confessed.

"That's not unusual considering this is the first time you're meeting him in nearly thirteen years? But after tonight, do you think you're seeing him a little differently? I know from Huck he's been trying to get to know you."

"Yeah, I guess… but it doesn't change how he treated me, and he's hurt my Mom… in ways you wouldn't understand."

"Camille, your parents' relationship has been tempestuous over the years, but things have changed between the two of them. I know Liv was planning on talking to you before her accident… she and your dad have been in touch over the past year… Liv was going to talk to you this summer, and bring you out here to meet your father. She didn't want to say anything until she felt sure their relationship was on solid ground... she acted cautiously, knowing how you feel about him."

"I guess this is the surprise she was telling me about?"

"Yes… are you okay?"

"No… when we first met, he told me they… they still had feelings for each other. I-I didn't want to believe him, but why else would she be here? Mom's been lying to me," she whispered.

"She was worried and scared how you'd react. This leak today, this is_ exactly_ what your mom's spent years trying to shelter you from, because of how much she loves you... and your father. She wanted to protect you both."

Camille cast her eyes over at her Mom.

"She likes to fix things - but I don't think she could fix today."

"The cat's out of the bag, and you guys can't do anything about it, other than look forward. Maybe you going to stay with him will give you both the opportunity to talk…"

"But what about his wife and kids… after what he did -" she cried anxiously.

"Fitz and Mellie don't live together; it's just the two boys. This is why I feel it's important you both get together, there are things only he will be able to explain to you."

"How do you feel about me going to live with him?" she asked carefully.

"I'll be honest, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I'd love to take you back to London. But on the other, I'm a father, and if this were happening to Jack or Henry, I'd want to protect them. So quite naturally, he wants to do the same. I can't argue with that."

Camille shifted uncomfortably in Stephen's arms. "Do you understand, honeybee?"

He felt her head bobbing up and down in agreement against his chest, and he smiled. Stroking her hair, they fell into a comfortable silence. He thought back to how he'd read her a bedtime story, and afterwards lay next to her doing this exact same thing, soothing her until she drifted off to sleep. Based on his recent conversation with Huck and the others, he decided he wouldn't push the 'father issue' and simply gave her a tight squeeze.

"Do you think you can come and stay with me?" asked Camille hopefully.

"Of course...we've already had a discussion about me visiting tomorrow, and staying the night."

Camille's head turned to look up at her Uncle, and she smiled. Stephen smiled back, feeling relieved he could give her some good news.

"That's cool… in a funny way, I'm curious… I have wondered what they're like…my sister and brothers."

"Of course you're curious, they're your family," Stephen mocked her gently. He felt secret pleased she'd brought up her siblings.

"But you guys are my family… the only family I know."

"So think about it, you have us, and the Grants - two families - bonus!"

"Don't patronize me, I'm twelve, not two,' she replied dryly, which made him laughed. "But, ya know, I still wish I could go and hide away in my room," she said longingly.

"I'm sure Huck will fly to New York to collect items from your house. You should make a list of things you want, to make you feel less apprehensive, and -"

Suddenly the door opened. Stephen felt Camille's body stiffen as Fitz entered, and they both sat up. Camille began fidgeting with her cardigan sleeves.

"Hey," said Fitz, looking from Camille to Stephen.

Stephen gave him a friendly nod. He looked at Camille and back at Fitz, and clocked their passive expressions. It confirmed her confusion at having to go and stay with him, but this was about damage limitation and more.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but everything's in place. Are you ready to go?" he asked Camille. Now she was biting her nails.

This was it. It was really happening. After the screaming, sulking, and snarling outbursts, she did the last thing she thought she'd be doing: leaving to go and live with him on his ranch. Of course she wasn't ready to leave, but events were spiraling out of control - she was caught in a trap.

Camille looked at Stephen. He gave her a subtle approving wink, letting her know it was okay, and she should go with her father.

Getting up she turned and began looking around.

"I need my bags and stuff..." she began.

"Don't worry," Fitz assured her. "All your bags have already been taken care of. We just need to get you to the car."

Her breathing increased rapidly, at the thought of leaving the room.

Picking up on her distress, he quickly added. "You'll be fine, our car is parked in a secure closed-off part of the hospital. We should be able to leave with minimum fuss."

Camille turned back to look at Olivia, and walked slowly to her bedside. She smiled faintly, pleased her Mom was oblivious to the commotion. She kissed her and said a final goodbye. Stepping back from the bed, she watched as he approached Olivia.

Fitz bent down and raised his hand to Olivia's face, he moved to whisper in her ear, and finally kissed her forehead.

Camille walked over to Stephen, and gripped his hand tightly.

Fitz soon joined them both. Stephen opened the door and left with Camille, as Fitz took hold of the door handle. He took a second to look back and gaze at Olivia one last time, and blew her a kiss. And just as he turned to finally close the door, Fitz missed seeing Olivia's left hand twitch.

* * *

At Fitz's request, the corridor had been cleared of medical and other staff members, so it was just the Gladiators and Tom outside Olivia's room.

Huck and Harrison were speaking in hushed tones to the agent, and Abby stood a few feet away whispering into her cell phone. As soon as the three men saw Camille, Stephen and Fitz, they ended their conversation. Stephen and Camille, who was still clinging to Stephen, stepped to the two H's. Tom went to join Fitz standing a few yards away.

Stephen felt Camille tighten her grip. He shifted his gaze to Fitz, and he looked worried.

Fitz's eyes were blinking anxiously. He rammed his hands into his pockets, and rocked backed on his heels. Would she come? Or would she refuse and stay with her Gladiator family?

Abby ended her call and joined Camille, and her friends.

"That was Quinn, she sends her love, and says she'll call you tomorrow."

Camille nodded.

"Are you okay, Abby?" asked Camille, concerned about what had occurred earlier.

"Sure, honey," said Abby brightly. She smiled at her favorite young person, touched she was thinking of her during this whole catastrophe.

Camille took her free hand to draw herself closer to Stephen, and rested her head on his arm.

"You ready?" Huck asked. She shook her head as tears formed in her eyes.

"Please… one of you, c-come with me," she stuttered through her tears.

Camille heard Fitz's breath hitch as he exhaled deeply. But this wasn't about him. These guys were her family too, and she loved them.

All the Gladiators looked at each other, except Huck who only had eyes for Stephen, who caught his stern expression. He gave Huck the briefest of nods.

"Miss Camille, I'm sorry," interrupted Tom, "… but we need to go."

"Just give us a minute," Stephen requested, and knelt down in front of a distraught Camille.

"Hey," he said gently brushing away thick warm tears. "It's okay, you're going to be fine," he assured her.

"P-please, Uncle Stephen," she sobbed.

"Camille, honeybee...it's time," he told her seriously.

Camille's breath hitched and her body began jerking like she had continuous hiccups.

"I-I can't, what if they hate me… I'm scared. I-I can't…" she stammered through her tears.

"Where you're going, no one's going to hate you. Your brothers are excited about meeting you, and who can blame them? You're funny, bright and ridiculously cute."

Stephen took a deep breath and locked eyes with her. "Honeybee, I know you're frightened, and confused. But after today's events, you need a level of protection your father is in a privileged position to provide - better than any of us."

Camille's skin felt prickly and icy at the same time, and a cold trickle of perspiration dribbled down her back, making her involuntarily shudder. She stretched her cardigan sleeves around her hands, squeezing them into fists and bringing one hand up to her forehead rubbed her clammy skin.

"Cam, go with your father. Whatever you think, he genuinely cares about you, and wants to protect you, and you should let him. It's not the perfect situation, but remember what we talked about? It's time to get to know your father. I, and by that I mean, we…" he chuckled, looking up at his friends, and back at Camille, "… we need to let you go. But we'll always be here for you. Okay?"

Camille brushed away her tears with her cardigan sleeve and nodded at the same time.

"Tonight your father put everything on the line to help you. Some people will say he's crazy and others he's courageous. I'm going with the latter. This is what your mom would want Cam… Olivia would know your dad is the only person in the world that can protect you right now."

Camille took a few more gulps and rubbed her eyes.

"W-what about my Mom, who's gonna look after her?"

"We're staying right here, honey," Abby assured her. "We're going to look after your mom, and…" she looked blankly at Fitz, "… your dad's going to look after you."

Fitz tipped his head at Abby.

"You're going be fine, trust me," said Harrison confidently, with a cheeky wink. "Hey, didn't Prince William and Kate Middleton spend time at your dad's place on their first official visit to LA, couple years ago? I say, if it's good enough for British Royalty, it's good enough for my girl, Cam!" he joked, raising his hands as though it were a _fait accompli_**.**

Camille laughed softly at Harrison, and cleared her throat.

"O…o-okay…" she choked out in a hushed voice.

Stephen pulled her into his arms and they embraced each other tightly.

"I love you. You'll always be my special girl," he whispered in her ear.

Stephen released her and stood up. Abby and Harrison moved in to give her a cuddle, and told Camille how much they loved her and how brave she'd been over the last couple of weeks.

Meanwhile Huck shuffled over to Fitz, with his head low and hands in pockets.

Fitz braced himself and looked at Huck, but the former CIA operative barely raised his head.

"Whatever she says or does, she needs you. Don't give up on her," he told Fitz quietly.

He didn't wait for a response. He shuffled away, back to Camille and the others.

Camille broke away from the three Gladiators' embrace and shifted her teary gaze to Huck. She gave him a watery smile and rushed over to him and flung her arms around his shoulders. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets.

"I love you Hucky-Bear," she whispered, and kissed his cheek.

"I'm going to your house to pick up some stuff for you," he mumbled.

She pulled away and wiped her face with her sleeves.

"Thanks… can you bring my paints and drawing pads, I-I need my tennis racket -"

"I'll bring everything you need. I'll call you when I get there, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go on, go and be happy."

Huck walked over to rejoin his friends. They all looked on as Camille stood staring at Fitz.

Fitz was smiling affectionately at her, but she noticed his smile didn't reach his eyes. They were puffy and red like he'd been crying too. He raised his eyebrows to ask if she was ready.

Camille's breath hitched uncomfortably. Feeling choked up, she didn't trust herself to speak. She swallowed hard and took a deep nervous inhale. She stared at him, smiled faintly, and nodded. She slowly walked towards him and Tom, and as soon as she was in alignment, both men turned, and the three of them walked in step towards the elevator.

Stephen bristled watching Camille leaving with Fitz.

"So did we do the right thing? Letting her go with him?" he asked, fake coughing. The jealous gene had him by the throat!

"He's her father," answered Huck.

"She doesn't know him," asserted Abby

Harrison gave his stubborn friend a wide side-eye look, and rolled his eyes in sheer frustration.

"Abby, you saw what happened in Starbucks. Grant switched into boss-mode. He did what we couldn't do: get Camille to move, and get the hell out of there."

"He stepped up when it mattered," agreed Huck.

"Oh, jeez, you guys, and your macho posturing -"

"Abby," Stephen interrupted in an exasperated tone.

"What?" she asked sharply, folding her arms across her chest.

"Let it go," Stephen told his friend.

No one spoke again.

Olivia's Gladiators stood by silently, watching Camille step into the elevator and disappear into the world of Fitzgerald Grant III.

* * *

**AN: ****_Thank you for your kind responses to my last update. I would like to say a special 'hi' to Cakeboss, justafan51, Kasey H, Cleo, Abigfan, Fairview, GEM8 and other Guests who I can't get in touch with directly, your reviews inspire me._**

**_Stephen is backing Fitz and revealed a few home truths. _**

**_Happy Reading to all Gladiators! (-;_**


	15. Chapter 10 The Journey

**_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'._**

* * *

**AN: _These next couple of updates will tie up Thursday's dramatic events._**

**_A couple of readers have asked: where Karen is? During the first meeting between Fitz and Camille (Chapter 3 'JFK Moment'), you may recall Fitz told Cam, Karen's currently volunteering with UNICEF in Asia and hopes to fly back to Cali _****_soon, hence the reason why, we've only been hearing about the Grant boys._**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**The Journey**

_If walls break down, I will comfort you  
If angels cry, oh I'll be there for you  
You've saved my soul  
Don't leave me now  
Don't leave me now_

_Yeah you and me we can ride on a star_  
_If you stay with me girl, we can rule the world_  
_Yeah you and me we can light up the sky_  
_If you stay by my side, we can rule the world._

_Rule The World_ – Take That

"Don't forget to put your seatbelt on," Fitz advised Camille, as he held open the passenger door.

She nodded.

Climbing into the back seat of the Cadillac Platinum DTS, with its blacked-out windows, she followed his instruction and buckled up.

Sitting back in her seat, she watched him talking to Tom, Bill and two other similarly dressed men she hadn't seen before. He was speaking quite animatedly, and the men were listening intently. Seconds later, Bill and the two men got into the Hummer car parked in front, and Tom escorted Fitz round to his side of the car. He climbed in beside her. Father and daughter were conscious of their close proximity to each other and deliberately stayed fixed to their side.

Tom got in. He made a call and confirmed with someone they were ready to leave. Shortly afterwards two police motorbikes and a car appeared. The police car flashed its headlights, and their driver and the Hummer's driver started their engines and proceeded to follow the police vehicles. Just as they were exiting, another police car appeared and got behind the Cadillac.

Leaving the hospital grounds, the police escort and cars were soon exposed to blinding camera lights and a flock of reporters and members of the public rushed towards them. Police officers were fortunately present, and ordered the ballsy crowd to retreat. But reporters and camera people persisted with their ruthless antics and took shots and recorded the moving cars, with no real purpose - thanks to the windows.

Camille gasped out loud, and dropped her head between her knees. Fitz instinctively went to comfort her, but stopped with his hand in midair and pulled away. She'd been very upset saying goodbye to her Gladiator family and hadn't spoken a word to him since leaving Olivia's ward. He feared she might reject him, so he settled back in his seat.

"It's alright, the windows are blacked-out, they can't see you," he reassured Camille.

She didn't speak. Nothing felt real. Everything was changing. She didn't own her life. She belonged to him, and the wolves armed with cameras and microphones.

The driver expertly maneuvered his way past the crowds circling the hospital building. And after a while, the crowds began thinning out, and eventually they were on the highway heading home.

Camille's head dropped back on the expensive car seat, and she closed her eyes.

Fitz shifted his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He watched as she rubbed her two fingers over her eye and across her eyebrow, repeating the action in a rhythmic motion. He smiled.

"You must be tired," he said quietly, pressing on a button that brought up a glass partition, so they could speak privately.

She murmured a non-committal response and looked away to stare out of the window. Fitz dropped his head in despair. He clamped his lips together in a tight grimace, before turning away and looking despondently out of his window and into the evening darkness.

"Are your sons still at home?" she asked quietly, still staring out the window.

"Yes."

"And they definitely know I'm coming back with you?"

"Yes."

Simultaneously they both sighed, and rested back in their seats, thinking about the implication of this new arrangement.

If anyone had told Camille, this time last week she would be staying at his ranch, she would have thought they were off their meds.

If anyone had told Fitz, this time last week Camille would be staying at his ranch he would have said: yes please.

"Won't it be weird, now everybody knows about... you know?"

"A little, I guess, but like your uncle told you, the boys are excited about meeting you - especially Teddy."

Camille doubted they were excited. What kid wants their father's mistress's child showing up to disturb your perfect family life?

"He said your wife doesn't live with you?"

"No, she doesn't," he confirmed. "Mellie and I divorced immediately after I stepped down as President. We remained together officially -" Fitz stopped. He didn't want to explain it was for the sake of his other children and Mellie's pride.

"The announcement was due to happen over this summer, but the last few hours have changed those plans."

"Oh!"

Camille was stunned to hear this news. She assumed like everyone else, they were still a married couple. But they were divorced, actually divorced. Camille removed her hairband and starting scooping back her curly locks, and retied it back into its original messy ponytail.

People sure do like to keep their secrets, she mused to herself.

"Have you said anything to the press, yet?"

"I've released a brief statement confirming the Grant family's support of you and Olivia through this difficult time, and to respect both families' privacy, and that a press conference will be an announced shortly."

Neither of them spoke again. Silence filled the car as they became quietly lost in their own personal thoughts.

To Camille's surprise the silence didn't feel awkward. All the previous tension she'd felt around him seemed to have evaporated since his earlier heroic act. But he seemed tense. She guessed he thought she was unhappy about leaving Uncle Stephen and the others, and she'd reverted back to her old ways, but that was far from the truth. She loved her Gladiators - it was as simple as that!

She rolled her head slightly to sneak a peek at him. She noticed he had his right hand up shielding his eyes, but she could tell he wasn't sleeping - his breathing was too rapid. He looked worried. Was he having a reality check about his earlier actions? Did he regret charging into Starbucks? Inviting her into his home? What did his children really think about her staying? Were they embarrassed having a black sister in their world? Were they angry by their father's relationship with her Mom? Did they hate her Mom? Did they hate her?

She felt her anxiety rising, knowing she was about to step into unknown territory.

Fitz took a deep breath and shifted slightly. She quickly turned her head to stare out of her window again.

Fitz had dreamed of this moment. For years he'd prayed there would be a time when Camille would be with him; the two of them spending quality time together and getting to know each other. But she did not want to be with him. She wanted to be with the family she'd grown up with, and trusted, which under the circumstances was a natural reaction. Maybe he shouldn't have forced the issue, and let her stay with Stephen and the Gladiators. It felt like he'd taken one step forward and three steps back. She was upset with him - again! - and only staying at his home under duress. It was a bittersweet feeling.

Fitz's thoughts were interrupted when he heard Camille quietly sniffing. He shifted his upper body to look at her.

"Hey, Camille, this is probably the dumbest question I'll ever ask you, but what's wrong?"

She shook her head. She lifted up her index finger and began scraping and making patterns in the passenger door.

She shook her head, and with her index finger began nonchalantly tracing patterns in the door window.

"C'mon, I promise you, I'm a good listener… mmm… what is it?" insisted Fitz.

Camille gulped, and sniffed loudly.

"It's nothing… I just want my Mom, is all," she said faintly.

"I understand. I know what it's like to lose someone you love. You don't feel you. You feel lost and empty, because that person is a part of you... and when they're away... a part of you goes. But your mom will get better. I promise you that. And in the meantime I'm going to do my best to help you through this. You're my top priority."

He noticed her shoulders seem to relax a little. She looked over her shoulder and stared up at him.

"C-can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever feel a part of you was missing... because of me?"

"Every minute of every day. I hate being apart from my children... but being away from you was soul destroying."

"So why didn't you..." She stopped and took a deep breath. "Why didn't you come and see me?"

Fitz sighed heavily and felt his face become flushed with guilt and shame.

"Because I was selfish... and a coward. I put my position as President before you."

"What you did in Starbucks… that wasn't cowardly," she replied, shaking her head.

"Thanks…. it makes me feel good you feel that way. But I don't think coming to help you makes up for the years I wasn't a p-proper father to you."

"Uncle Stephen said you could lose everything because of what you did."

"I won your trust - for one minute - so I think it was worth it. And... I'll handle any repercussions good or bad."

Camille squeezed her hands together and began fidgeting with her frayed fingernails.

"I bet everyone's cursing you out."

Fitz hastily released his seatbelt. He shifted over to Camille and took her hand. She froze. His fingers gently caressed the back of her hand in slow motion. It was incredible to Camille how his huge hand could feel so light, gentle and... kind. That was it! He had a kind touch - if that were possible. She slowly relaxed. Her fingers and hand loosened and she returned his hold.

"Camille, I can't predict how this will turn out. But I don't want you to worry about me; it's my job to do the worrying. I promise I'll do everything in my power to protect you and Livvie. Can you trust me to do that for you... as a start?"

The sincerity emulating from his promise captured her. His eyes spoke volumes to Camille. She smiled and nodded eagerly at him and opened her mouth to speak, but bright lights caught both their attention and their heads snapped round in unison.

Fitz saw the familiar road and high walls surrounding his family ranch. He took a sharp intake of breath, observing the bodies of people milling around the outside wall. Similar to the hospital, blazing lights from TV camera crews and parked production vans and cars had taken root along the dusty roadside. He shifted to look, as Camille's eyes widened and her body visibly started to shake.

"Don't worry, and try to ignore them. Hold on."

All Camille could do was nod.

He lowered the glass partition and spoke to the driver.

"Just keep driving at a slow steady pace, I want to do this with minimum -" Fitz paused. He saw a couple of cars slow down and drive alongside the Cadillac. The car windows were lowered and people were leaning out of their moving vehicles, precariously holding cameras and clicking away or filming, with no thought to their own safety. Not even the presence of police bikes and cars acted as a deterrent.

Fitz felt constantly assured by the blacked-out windows, but Camille was now squirming and had shrunk back in her seat, with her arms crossed over her face.

"It's okay… try to stay calm… it'll be over soon," he told her kindly.

Camille's heart started to hammer against her rib cage and she felt a nervous tension take over her body. Please make it stop, she thought desperately.

As the driver proceeded alongside the white high wall that divided the ranch from the rest of world, the entry gates came into view. Police officers were forcing back the crowd, affording their car more space to increase its speed and get closer.

"We have to keep moving," said Fitz assertively.

With the support of police, the crowds hung back and the car finally made it to the entrance.

"We're here," said Fitz.

Camille lowered her arms. She looked up in awe at the twenty-foot black iron gates that slowly started to open. The car entered the ranch, and left the hungry media pack behind.

"Are you okay?" asked Fitz.

She nodded, as relief spread through her.

As the car wheels crunched along the graveled path, the tranquil sound allowed Camille to take a couple of deep breaths.

She had survived the rampant reporters. Now it was time to meet Gerry and Teddy.

* * *

**AN: _As always, I appreciate the reviews and continued support for Camille and Fitz's story. Olivia DOES wake up, but Camille and Fitz need time to work on their relationship - without her influence._**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators! (-;_**


	16. Chapter 11 Brothers and Sisters

**Disclaimer: _I don't own 'Scandal'._**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**Brothers and Sisters**

_When the voices of children are heard on the green,_

_And laughing is heard on the hill,_

_My heart is at rest within my breast,_

_And everything else is still._

_'Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,_

_And the dews of night arise;_

_Come, come leave off play, and let us away_

_Till the morning appears in the skies.'_

_'No, no, let us play, for it is yet day,_

_And we cannot go to sleep;_

_Besides, in the sky the little birds fly,_

_And the hills are all cover'd with sheep.'_

_'Well, well, go and play till the light fades away,_

_And then go home to bed.'_

_The little ones leapèd, and shoutèd, and laugh'd_

_And all the hills echoèd._

_Nurse's Song_ - William Blake

Whoa! Camille thought. Staring out of her car window she could make out acres of vast beautiful terrain stretching far and wide beyond her vision. She remembered, from his earlier confrontation with the Gladiators, his boasting about living on more than two hundred acres of private land, and he wasn't lying, she concluded, looking out at the rural ranchland's gently rolling hills dotted with oak trees. And was that a pond she could make out? Camille lived a very comfortable life with Olivia and wanted for nothing. But this guy's place could feature on _MTV Cribs_.

As the car began to ascend one of the hills, Camille could see, coming into view, a huge white plantation-style building ablaze with lights shining from french windows on both the ground and second storeys.

A few minutes later their car pulled up in front of the house and the olive green-colored front door opened. Two dogs came racing out onto the expansive ground floor veranda, followed by a tall young man and one short boy – Gerry and Teddy. Gerry called out to the dogs and the pair stopped running, and dutifully lay down at the bottom of the veranda steps. Teddy patted one of the dogs as he and Gerry passed by and made their way towards the car.

Camille's curiosity was dampened. Her heart was racing out of control, and her previous nervousness kicked in again. She squirmed back against the car seat. Tom and the driver got out, but she didn't budge one inch.

"Please… I-I don't want to make trouble for you or your family," she told Fitz frantically.

Fitz closed his eyes. It was a personal blow to him that any of his children felt any guilt due to his behavior.

"Camille, please… don't ever say you're causing me trouble. None of this is on you. This is my mess." he finished, with a troubled sigh, exhausted by his own turmoil.

"Are you sure about this?"

He tilted his head to one side and simply gazed at Camille. His eyes were simmering with devotion as he looked directly into her fearful eyes.

"I've been sure for a long time."

He wanted to tell her the reason why he felt sure: he was finally bringing his baby girl home.

She swallowed hard and looked down at her hands. And for the second time, Fitz shifted over and covered her hands with his own, giving her a quick squeeze.

"Trust me, Camille; it's going to be alright. Look! Gerry and Teddy are waiting - let's go say 'hello'"

Without waiting for a response, Fitz got out of the car.

"Daddy! Daddy!" called out Teddy. His little legs speeding towards Fitz - turbo style - and he threw himself into his father's arms.

Fitz hugged his son closely, ruffled his hair, and kissed the top of his head.

"Hey TT, I missed you," he said warmly, scooping Teddy up into his arms.

"Me too... I saw you on T.V."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" he cried wrapping his little arms around Fitz's neck, and planting a kiss on his cheek.

The two large Rhodesian ridgeback dogs bounded towards Fitz. He shouted firmly and pointed at both dogs, and they ran off barking towards the hills and out of sight.

Gerry stuffed his hands into his jean pockets as he walked a few steps closer to join his father and brother.

"Hey Gerry," said Fitz to his older son, who tilted his head at his father.

"Hey," replied Gerry.

"There's someone very special in the car, I'd like you both to meet," said Fitz, looking from Gerry to Teddy.

The four year old was grinning from ear to ear and started rocking up and down, and waving his arms in the air with sheer excitement. Fitz was losing his grip on Teddy and put him down.

Fitz mouthed to Gerry, "She's a bit shy."

Gerry smiled, and nodded understandingly. He walked behind Teddy and dampened his younger brother's enthusiasm by placing his hands on his shoulders.

Fitz walked to Camille's side of the car and opened the door. He bent forward and locked eyes with her.

Camille noticed his eyes had lost all traces of their earlier puffiness. Now they were dancing in the dark and sparkling like two sapphires against the evening shade. He smiled invitingly and held out his hand, and raised his eyebrows to indicate she should come out and meet her brothers.

This was it - the moment of truth. She would finally found out if she really was welcome in the Grant household. She tentatively took his hand and slowly climbed out. Camille's head hung low causing her long curly hair to fall across her eyes, and she quickly swept the loose strands behind her ears. Once out of the car she subtly shifted closer to Fitz, and brushed against his side. He placed his arm around her hunched up shoulders, and began gently soothing away the tension he could feel emulating from her tiny frame.

Olivia would be furious if she saw her, Camille thought. Head up and eyes looking directly ahead - that was the Pope way!

Taking a deep breath, she swiftly raised her head.

Gerry and Teddy were staring at Camille. She stared back. No one spoke for a second or two - everyone gauging each other's responses - in light of this new experience.

Fitz gently cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"Gerry, Teddy…" said Fitz, as he paused, and smiled at Camille."... this is your sister, Camille. Camille, I'd like you to meet your brothers, Gerry and Teddy."

Gerry and Camille continued to study each other with blank expressions. They made no obvious reaction to Fitz's introduction, but their minds were busy working overtime.

Teddy squealed out loud and shrugging off Gerry, he dashed the short distance and stuck out his hand.

"Hello, Camille, I'm Teddy. We saw you on T.V. with Daddy!" he exclaimed, grinning wildly up at Camille.

He seemed genuinely delighted to meet his new sister.

Camille returned Teddy's greeting with her own friendly smile, as she looked down at him.

"Hello Teddy, I'm Camille, it's nice to meet you," she said, shaking the four year old boy's small hand.

Teddy's innocent childlike excitement cut through some of the awkwardness between the older siblings, and Gerry stepped forward and put his hand out to meet his new sister.

Camille couldn't help notice how much Teddy and Gerry looked like their dad. They had the same thick dark wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. Gerry was almost as tall as Fitz but had a wiry frame compared to his muscular father.

"Hey, Camille, I'm Gerry, it's good to meet you," said the teenager politely. Camille took Gerry's hand and they shook hands firmly, staring at each other, as they tried to gauge what the other was thinking.

"Hey," she whispered shyly. It was the best reply she could manage.

"We're real sorry about Aunt Liv - your mom," said Gerry.

"Thanks." Camille raised an eyebrow in surprise when he referred to her Mom as 'Aunt Liv'.

"Okay," said Fitz, realizing it was a surreal moment between the older siblings. "Let's get Camille inside."

Tom and the driver had already taken her belongings from the car to the house.

Camille and Teddy walked ahead. Fitz and Gerry followed behind, and were speaking quietly, but Camille felt sure she heard them mention Karen and Mellie.

Out of nowhere Teddy grabbed her hand, causing her to forget about Fitz and Gerry and their conversation.

"Did those people scare you?'

"A little bit."

"My Daddy helped you," he declared. Puffing out his chest.

"Yes, I was very lucky."

"Yes," he insisted.

As they walked up the veranda steps, Teddy squeezed her hand tightly.

"You're pretty, like your mommy," he stated matter- of-factly.

"Thank you, that's sweet of you to say…"

"Is she better today?"

"She's still sleeping."

"Oh," said Teddy, gloomily. "I want her to wake up. It makes my Daddy sad, she won't wake up."

Camille raised her eyebrows at his heartfelt comment and smiled at Teddy. She knew she liked her younger brother already. "C'mon, I want you to see the present I got you... I can't tell you what it is, cos he's sleeping. Oh!" he gasped, covering his mouth with his other hand.

"I can't wait to see... I love surprises."

"Me too."

When they arrived at front door, Fitz stepped in front of Camille and Teddy. He pushed it open and looked warmly at his daughter.

"Welcome home."

She looked at him and kept looking as she passed by and stepped inside. Camille did not know what to expect but the house was beyond her wildest imagination. She tried to play it down but her wide-open eyes and gaping mouth gave her away as she continued staring at this fabulous house he called home. She slipped off her ballet pumps.

Her eyes were fervently looking around and taking in the magnificent marbled floor entrance and two iron-wrought staircases. As she looked between the staircases there was an oval table with framed family photographs. Beyond the table were steps leading down into what appeared to be a reception area because she could see a large sofa and coffee table alongside huge Asian-style pot plants containing a variety of plants and blossoming flowers. Behind the sofa were three double french doors. The décor was in neutral colors and, despite it's size, the place had a homely feel.

"Do you like our house?" Teddy asked excitedly.

"It's amazing," she replied truthfully.

Seeing how impressed she was Teddy started chattering away about the bedrooms, playroom, cinema room, the horses and stables, the ponds, the swimming pool, and the tennis court, until Fitz interrupted him.

"Teddy, I think it's great you're so excited about Camille being here, but it's late. Camille's had an exhausting day and probably wants to get something to eat and to get some rest," he told his four year old son. "You can give her a tour of the place tomorrow. Does that sound fair?"

Teddy nodded disappointedly.

"I'd like that," chipped in Camille, and Teddy's sunshine smile returned.

"C'mon, let me show you to your room," Fitz said to Camille. He looked over his shoulder at Gerry. "Can you put Teddy to bed? I'll be in -"

"No,' said Gerry. Everyone froze, unsure what to think or do in response to Gerry's answer. "You go with Teddy, Dad, and I'll take Camille up to her room."

Camille bit down on her bottom lip nervously and her eyes darted anxiously from Fitz to Gerry. Being alone so soon with her older brother never crossed her mind.

Fitz was clearly thinking the same thing because he had a surprised expression on his face. He looked at Gerry, and his son nodded at him. Fitz smiled humbly at Gerry, appreciating the gesture he made towards his anxious sister.

"It's cool… c'mon, Camille," he encouraged her, making his way to the left hand staircase. "Unless, you want something to eat… we have a couple of untouched pizzas from earlier if you guys?"

"I'm not hungry, thanks," said Camille. Her appetite had left her back at the hospital. Her stomach was already in knots and churning like she was making cheese. Food was the last thing on her mind.

"Okay, let's go," ordered Gerry.

Teddy ran to Fitz and grabbed his trouser legs.

"Can I go with Gerry and Camille?" asked Teddy.

"No son, you come with me. It's late, and you need a story and sleep," said Fitz, bending down and picking Teddy up.

"Oh, it's not fair, why does Gerry get to stay with Camille, and not me?" he whined and pouted as he crossed arms.

"Didn't I say you could stay up late to meet Camille, mmm? What's say I make you a hot chocolate?"

"Yeah!" he cried excitedly. Fitz chuckled. "Will Camille still be here tomorrow Daddy?" Teddy asked worriedly, looking at Camille and Gerry.

"Of course," laughed Fitz, shaking his head at his youngest son. He looked at Camille.

"I'm just going to settle Teddy down. I'll see you in a minute?"

She returned his smile with her own, and nodded at Fitz.

"C'mon," Gerry prompted her.

"Oh," said Camille, feeling more than apprehensive.

"I don't bite – honest." His blue eyes shone brightly. He looked open and friendly. Camille couldn't help feeling the same warm comforting feeling she'd experienced with his dad when Gerry looked at her.

Her shoulders collapsed and she relaxed and smiled in gratitude at him.

Camille followed behind Gerry. He half turned his head to look back at her.

"You okay? Must be a bit of a head fuck! Sorry."

"Yeah, it's been a bit crazy…"

"You're all over the news…"

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said as they reached the top of the stairs. "This way," he said, pointing left, and they both proceeded down a long corridor. "It's not your fault some sleazeball wants to make a quick buck. Dad's put you in one of the guest rooms… it's got an en suite bathroom, living room area... he thought you'd want some privacy."

Camille smiled in response.

Once they hit the end of the long corridor, Gerry opened the door and stood back, inviting Camille to enter first. She stepped inside the biggest bedroom she'd ever seen, and again, the décor was warm neutral tones. Gerry followed behind her.

Camille spotted a staff member putting the few clothes Camille had in her possession in a large oak wardrobe. She smiled kindly when she saw Gerry and Camille.

"Hello Maya," he said to the uniformed maid.

"Good evening, Gerry," she said politely.

"Maya, this is my sister Camille, Camille this is Maya," and Camille smiled back. "She's here to make sure you're comfortable for the next - as long as you're staying here," he told her.

"Hello Maya."

"Hello Camille, it's nice to meet you. Please let me know if there's anything you need," she said, placing Camille's bag on the bed.

"Thank you… I pretty much look after myself when I'm home." She felt a little uncomfortable having a maid assigned to her. Olivia had a cleaner come to their house twice a week. That was it!

"I have met your mother, lovely lady, I'm so sorry about her accident."

"Thank you."

Gerry thanked Maya, and she smiled at the pair and left discreetly.

"Your mom gets on well with Maya. She speaks to her a lot – in Spanish."

"Yes, she picked it up when we lived in Barcelona for a few months."

"I forget she speaks French and Spanish," said Gerry, full of admiration.

"She started learning Mandarin before the accident." Camille voice hitched and her eyes were downcast. She wondered if her Mom got better, would she remember her multilingual skills? Would she remember Camille?

Gerry shifted from his left to right foot a few times.

"Um... Karen called earlier," he told Camille, with a sympathetic smile.

"Uh-huh…"

"Yeah, she wants your cell phone number?"

"Oh, okay, yeah, sure… can I give it to you in the morning?"

"Yeah…"

There was a short silence. The pair were still sizing each other up; Gerry was studying her quite intently. She turned red with embarrassment and broke eye contact with him.

"Teddy's right, you really do look like your mom -"

"I-I'm sorry about everything!" she blurted out.

"Hey, I told you, it's not your fault -"

"No, I mean about… your dad, today, in Starbucks, I didn't know - I didn't ask him - I didn't expect him to do that," she explained breathlessly.

Gerry's brow furrowed. He felt slightly perplexed when she referred to his Dad as not her Dad, but guessed it wasn't too unusual, considering she'd only really known him for a couple of weeks.

"Aah, his _Superman_ impression. Between you and me, I think he secretly loved storming in there like a badass," said Gerry, smirking at her. And Camille felt at ease enough to smile back. "The whole thing's pretty fu- messed up. I've had years to get use to the crazy my parents bring to the party - nothing they do surprises me. Seriously though, it's cool, you're here, and Dad's gonna have to finally come clean about my Mom… and you guys…"

"But still…"

"I know it feels like the world is coming to an end, but it won't be too long before people are fixating on some other scandal - sorry, I didn't -"

"You're right, it's a scandal."

"Well… I'll gonna leave you to it, if you need anything, I'm in the reception room downstairs, playing X-box with my bud Tom. You know where you came in? If you look straight ahead you go down some steps and take a right, you'll see us. Tom's alright. He's been one my closest friends since boarding school," he told her.

"Thanks, but I think I'm gonna go straight to bed."

"Okay, see ya in the morning."

"Sure, see ya."

Once Gerry left the room Camille looked around her new bedroom admiring the four-poster bed. She walked over and dived facedown into a luxurious assortment of fluffy pillows, cushions and bed covers. She turned her head and grabbing her bag emptied its contents looking for her wash bag. Spotting her iPad, she picked it up instead and thought about searching for her story.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hello?" she said nervously.

"Hey," said Fitz.

"Oh… hey, come in," she said quietly.

Fitz entered with a hot chocolate and a plate of cookies and walked slowly over to her before placing both items on the bedside table.

"How do you like your room?"

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing, your house is lovely," she said, looking around in admiration, and moved to sit up with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

Fitz pointed to a space on the bed. She nodded and shifted over, and he sat down beside her.

"You know Camille, this is your house too... everything I have belongs to you guys." Camille looked away unsure how to take what he was implying. Fitz went on. ""Anyway, I thought you could do with a hot drink."

She nodded. "Yes, thanks."

"I spoke to your aunt and grandmother; they're both very upset and worried about you. I told them you were with me, and you'd call them in the morning."

"I should call… but I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone."

Fitz nodded.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine - just tired."

"Of course… it's been an eventful day and I'm forgetting how late it is," he replied, looking at his watch. "If you need me, I'm going to be working till late in my office. It's the room at the end of this corridor. The place covers two floors, three, including the basement area… but we're quite spread out."

"Uh-huh, okay," she said.

"Can I say how happy I am you're here? I know I know," he added hurriedly, "… you don't want to be here…but I'm glad you are."

Camille cleared her throat.

"Um…"

His brow crinkled, and he worried something was wrong. She looked up at him. Fitz stared into her eyes and took a deep breath when he saw her dark chocolate pools were glistening with tears.

"Camille…"

She jerked her head. She blinked repeatedly to stop and wiped her eyes with her fingers.

"I… I wanted to say thank you…" she said in her softest voice. "What you did today… I know I've given you a real hard time 'n' everything. You doing, what you did today, coming to get me… I know you're in lots of trouble… but it was a big deal to me… thank you… sorry, I'm -"

Bless her, thought Fitz, she was really struggling to make an effort to show how much the day's earlier events had meant to her. He smiled and gave her a friendly nudge with his elbow.

"Any time… goodnight, Camille."

"Um…okay, goodnight," she whispered.

Just as Fitz was about to slip off the bed, he hesitated. They both looked at each other and smiled nervously. She looked away and covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. Fitz immediately jumped to his feet.

"Goodnight," he repeated, and quickly left the room.

She swung her feet round and flopped back on the bed. She groaned out loud, slapping her hand to her forehead and looked up at the high ceiling.

She felt awkward. She hadn't meant to yawn but she was tired and now he thought she did it to make him leave. But it had felt kinda awkward. After thanking him she did almost feel like giving him a hug, to show her appreciation. But part of her felt it was too soon. Saying 'thank you' would be enough for now.

Her mind drifted back to her first meeting with her brothers. She liked Teddy. He was a real sweetie, with a big heart. But there was a question mark when it came to Gerry. As friendly as he had been during their initial encounter, she felt guarded. Being older meant their parents' triangular relationship gave them a slightly less innocent view than say a younger child like Teddy. And Karen being older - she figured there would be the same awkwardness. But she had asked for her cell number so that was a good sign.

She shifted over to take a sip of her hot chocolate when her left hand touched unfamiliar cold metal. She sat up and looked down to see a silver bracelet with a charm attached to it. She picked it up. It didn't belong to her. Abby must have accidentally dropped it in her bag when they were clearing up from the beach, she mused. The beach- huh! It seemed like it happened months ago instead of a few hours.

She held the bracelet in the palm of her hand and focused on the single charm. Three numbers connected together: seven, five and two. It didn't make sense. She played with the bracelet trying to work out the puzzle: seven, five, and two? Could it be Seven hundred and fifty two? It made no sense! Then it hit her, and she smiled. Huck! It didn't need to make sense. It was a gift from Hucky-Bear. She rested back, and turned on her side, clasping her new present to her chest. Her eyes fluttered, and by her next breath she was fast asleep.

* * *

Fitz rested back against the guest room door after saying 'goodnight' to Camille. He had to fight his parental urges to give her a cuddle and goodnight kiss. For a second it felt as though she was going to make some sort of gesture towards him, but instead she yawned and he took that as his cue to leave. He was hurt... a little, okay a lot. But he remembered Stephen's advice: patience. He needed to remember to take his time. It would be a challenge because when it came to his children he was a free spirit. He was accustomed to expressing his love for openly and freely. However he couldn't risk being too pushy and make Camille feel uncomfortable.

He jumped when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out his pocket and smiled when he saw caller ID.

"Hello?" his answered warmly, as he began to take small steps to his office.

"Hello, Dad?" questioned the young female voice down the phone.

"Hey, Karen," sighed Fitz, with relief. "It's good to hear your voice."

"Dad, can you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, I can hear you..."

"Sorry, the line's cracking this end... that's better. I saw the news. What a nightmare! Are you guys okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, how you doing?"

"I'm worried about you and Mom. She said she's spoken to you, and you want her to fly back to Santa Barbara."

"We spoke briefly, she's having hysterics. I couldn't really talk to her."

"Yes, she's really upset, I tried to calm her down but she wouldn't listen and got into one of her me-against-the-world rants. How's Camille doing?"

"She's um... she's here."

"Wow! You got her to come home?"

"Yes, but she doesn't want to be here," said Fitz in a sullen tone.

"You're kidding, right? She was practically strangling you on the news!"

"She was scared."

"She knew her knight in shining armor had arrived to save the day; Daddy to the rescue!"

Karen heard her Father's breath hitch in the back of his throat, and he stifled a sob.

She sighed sympathetically. "Hey Dad, c'mon... you did great. I'm real proud of you."

"Karen... you don't understand, I don't think she's going to forgive me for letting her down all these years... I don't blame her, I wouldn't forgive me either. When I think about Big Jerry and our to-the-grave feud, what if we end up -"

"Stop it Dad. We've been through the same stuff… look at what we went through when you and Mom packed Gerry and I off to boarding school instead of letting us enrol at Sidwell… and all that other stuff with Mom... I came round - it's a girl thing! Listen, I've spoken to the team leader I'm coming home soon."

"Karen, that's... that's good to hear."

"Yes, they said I could leave straight away, but I felt guilty seeing as I'm supposed to be here till September. We came to a compromise: I'll hang around until my replacement arrives, and later on in the year I'm coming back."

"I appreciate it; I could do with the support. I understand you're going to be here too for your mother…"

"Dad, I'm coming home to support _my family_: Mom, Teddy, Camille, Gerry, you and Olivia."

Fitz closed his eyes as relief spread through him. He really didn't know what he'd done to deserve his children.

"I asked Gerry to get Camille's number - you don't have it by any chance, do you?"

"No," admitted Fitz in a sheepish voice.

"Christ! I forgot to ask, how was everything with the boys, did they make her feel welcome and everything? How was Gerry?"

"Fine, good. I think you've got competition. Teddy already adores her, and Gerry… it's a little strange, but he offered and took her up to her room... I think they had a chat. Yeah, it's fine."

"Good, that's good... I'll wait to hear from Gerry and give her a call. Do you think she'll mind? I don't want to freak her out or anything."

"No, I don't... it's me she's not sold on."

"Dad, pull it together," said Karen crossly. "She's a little girl whose face and name has been plastered all over the world… and her mommy's ill in hospital. Give her time."

"You're right, I'm feeling sorry for myself ... she did say she thought what I did was a big deal and thanked me."

"See, there ya go! Stop whining… I'm finding it hard to believe you were once Leader of the Free World, when you whine like TT. You're a great dad, and I love you."

"I love you."

"What are planning on doing about this story?"

"I'm coming clean about everything: your Mom, the divorce, Olivia and Camille. I've already released a statement confirming we're supporting The Pope family and a press conference will be announced shortly. I think Cyrus is flying in and I'm working with my PR team to organize the conference… and then there's the matter of the leak."

"Do you have any idea who did this?"

"I don't think it was the hospital… I think it was someone visiting with Olivia."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"It's just a feeing. Olivia's Gladiators are investigating as we speak. I should have my theory proved or disproved shortly."

"What do you want me to do or say?"

"Say... say what you feel Karen, I don't mind."

"I'll play like a 'DAR Doh! Girl' until after the press conference..." she joked. Karen sighed down the phone. "She really looks like Olivia, doesn't she?"

"Yes, yes, she does… she's beautiful. I've got two stunning daughters."

"You're only saying that because I look like Grandmama Phoebe," Karen said tongue-in-cheek.

Fitz smiled thinking about his late mother and her beautiful grey/blue eyes and glorious mane of blonde hair. His mother and eldest daughter were like peas-in-a-pod.

"So sue me."

"How is Aunt Liv doing, any progress?"

"No, everything's the same... she's still holding on."

"Next time you see her, tell her I love her and I'm thinking of her."

"I always do, honey... along with my own personal message," he smirked.

"Urgh! TMI Dad. How long you gonna be up?"

"Just a couple hours," he fibbed.

"Liar," Karen shot back firmly.

"Okay, maybe… three."

"You need to get some sleep, Dad. You'll be no use to Camille and the rest of us, if you're half cut. It's gonna be a tough next few days."

"I've taken on the Taliban and lived to tell the tale. We're the Grants and the Popes - that's an unbeatable combination!"

"Ya got that right."

"I'll make sure I get some rest."

"Uh-huh..." Karen replied suspiciously. "I'd better go… these schools don't build themselves."

"Sorry, Karen, I forgot to ask, how's it going?"

"Yeah, it's good, all the building work's taken care of... we're practically done and ready for the new academic year. It's wonderful we can give these girls a chance after what they've been through."

"Did I tell you how darn proud I am of you?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, like every time I talk to you."

"Well, I can't say it enough."

Karen laughed.

"Send my love to everyone, and I'll call you guys tomorrow. Love you Mr. Grant."

"Love you Miss. Grant."

As he arrived at his office door, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on the brass handle. Taking another deep breath, he opened the door. Facing him was a busy team of six people making phone calls, tapping away on laptops, and calling out to each other - against a backdrop of news broadcasting from a flat screen.

Everyone stopped whatever task they were doing to focus on their boss.

"Good evening Mr. Grant," said a short brunette woman wearing glasses and her hair tightly pinned back in a bun.

"Good evening Gabrielle, everyone," said Fitz brightly to his team. "Don't stop on my account."

Everyone smiled empathetically at Fitz and murmured greetings, and returned to their current tasks as he instructed them to do. Fitz watched his staff with nothing but respect. He was a firm but fair boss. He paid his staff well above market rates and it was a good move too, because he had successfully pulled together a team of bright and dedicated professionals who had worked for him since he left the White House.

Fitz looked up at the flat screen on the wall and watched the various news items. His eyes widened when footage of him and Camille holding each other flashed across the screen. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heel. He cocked his head to one side and a faint smile of satisfaction crossed his lips.

* * *

**AN: _Aah, good vibrations. Teddy adores his new sister; Gerry stepped in to make Camille feel less anxious; and Karen's coming home to support her family. I'm touched by the lovely sentiments expressed in the recent reviews. Big hugs and smiles! _**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators! (-;_**


	17. Chapter 12 Feeling Blue

**Disclaimer: _I don't own 'Scandal'._**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Feeling Blue**

_Smelly Cat Smelly Cat_

_What are they feeding you?_

_Smelly Cat Smelly Cat_

_It's not your fault_

_'_Phoebe_' - Friends_

**_President Grant's Secret Lovechild Revealed _**

_By FRANK BOURNE_

_Former President Grant is accused of fathering a daughter with his former communications director, Olivia Pope._

_These allegations have arisen following his recent visits to the Santa Barbara Medical Hospital, where Ms Pope is in critical condition following a falling accident._

_Their alleged daughter, Camille Pope, 12, was flown by private jet from New York to Santa Barbara, and is currently staying with her mother on the hospital's private wing._

_Ms Pope was rushed to the Santa Barbara Medical Hospital following a freak incident at the Santa Barbara Municipal Airport two weeks ago. She tripped down a flight of stairs and received a serious head injury and fell into a coma. She has since undergone an emergency life-saving operation._

_Visitors to Ms Pope have also included the former President's wife Millicent Grant, and former clients and colleagues from Washington DC, where Ms Pope ran a successful crisis management company between 2004 and 2008._

_During the former Commander-in-Chief's eight-year presidency his marriage regularly came under close scrutiny, with reports the couple had drifted apart, but remained together for the sake of his political aspirations and their three children: Karen 20, Gerald, 17 and Theodore, 4._

_Harvard-graduate Olivia Pope was employed as part of a successful campaign team that secured President Grant the Republican nomination and won him the 2004 Election, with a marginal number of state votes. Sources close to the campaign team claim it was Ms Pope's political genius that turned the fortunes of the then struggling State Governor of California. He had been trailing behind his Republican counterpart Sally Langston before Ms Pope developed his campaign's winning strategy._

_Ms Pope, 37, left Washington DC after the Republican Party's 2008 Election win to pursue other interests._

_Since stepping down from office the former President has kept a relatively low profile, appearing as guest speaker at a few key national and international events._

_So far neither the Grant or Pope families have made any comment regarding these serious allegations._

After the best shower of her life, Camille had returned to her room and got dressed in_ Superdry_ shorts and t-shirt. She'd climbed back into bed and spent the previous five minutes toying with the idea of looking up the story Harrison had demanded she read from the day before. Feeling a little braver and calmer she decided to go for it. And now here she was, her index finger tapping her iPad screen and reading and rereading the story that had sent her world into a tailspin. When she first clicked onto the FOX News world exclusive story, she was shocked at her close-up image and how messy her hair looked. She'd snorted and shook her head, frustrated at herself for allowing vanity to come first.

Tapping her index finger on the YouTube link at the top of the screen, she typed three words into the search bar: _President Grant Starbucks_. There was a selection of videos to choose from and opting for the video with the highest viewing figures she brought the tip of her finger down to select it.

Holding her breath as the video started, Camille watched him turning with precision around the corner into Starbucks, and marching towards her surrounded by the hospital security guards. She lost him for a moment but within seconds he reappeared, and this time he was holding Camille closely to his chest. She raised her head and smiled at the sight of him holding and rocking her in his arms. She remembered him whispering soothing words: 'You're safe now', 'I'm not going to let anyone hurt you' 'I love you so much' and 'You're my precious angel.'

It felt bizarre to Camille, because at the time, she couldn't recall him speaking to her, but now every word he uttered in that one minute came flooding back to her. She guessed she couldn't recall his words since she'd been in a state of shock at the time, she told herself. Scrolling further down there were viewers' comments calling his actions either heroic or denigrating him. She gasped at some of the comments. There were a few racially and sexually abusive messages about him falling for a black woman, and explicit abuse directed at her Mom, calling her a shank, ho, and slut.

Her body shuddered and she took a shaky breath as tears filled her eyes. Her Mom's life was hanging by a thread and all they could do was make nasty jokes and comments. As she scrolled further down she ignored the friendly opinions and zoned in on the nastier ones. As Camille read on, a couple of people were actually accusing _her_ of leaking the story for money. She dropped the iPad, and then used her feet to kick it further down the bed as though it had turned into bucket of vomit.

Tears streamed down her face and splashed against her hand but she didn't bother to wipe away her sadness; she was stunned into stillness.

"Camille, are you awake?" said a small boy's voice.

She cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Hey Teddy, come in," she said, sniffing and putting on a false smile.

The door slowly opened and she saw Teddy had his back pushing against the door. He grunted loudly and was puffing hard. She leapt off the bed and rushed over to help him open the door.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly, and smiled up at her as he held on tightly to a small wicker carrier.

"Whatcha got there?" she asked him, brightly, trying to shrug off how awful she really felt inside.

Teddy walked over to her bed, with Camille following closely behind. He set the carrier on the bed, and turned round. His pearly white teeth were shining brightly as his grinned at his sister.

"This is a present for you," he declared happily, throwing out his hands in the direction of the carrier.

Camille hopped back onto the bed and Teddy joined her. Turning the carrier so the small door was facing her, she peered inside and gasped when she saw a tiny blue colored kitten staring back at her. She looked down at Teddy who was still grinning at her.

"Oh, my God, Teddy, he's beautiful – thank you!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him, and he hugged her right back. The two siblings slightly broke apart and smiled at each other.

"Do you like him? Gerry took me to the pet store to buy him. I used my own money."

"I love him," she replied, removing her arms from his shoulders and reaching out to open the carrier. "It's a boy, right?"

Teddy's head bobbed up and down. "Yes, but he doesn't have a name yet."

Opening the cage, Camille took another peek inside. She was about to place her hand inside and stopped. "He won't scratch me will he?" she asked worriedly.

Teddy chuckled out loud and shook his head. "No, he's real sweet, but a bit scared. He hisses at the dogs - a lot! But you can take him out... look, I'll show you."

Teddy moved up closely to Camille brushing his arm against her, and began calling out to the kitten. He reached both his hands inside and after a few attempts managed to catch hold of the tiny animal. As he brought him out Camille's hands flew to her wide open mouth and she sighed in complete adoration. Happy tears filled her eyes as she stared at the Russian Blue kitten that had began to meow loudly, and dig his claws into Teddy's arms as the young boy tried to cradled him.

"Oh my God, he's too cute!" she cried out.

"I call him Blue, but Gerry said you've got to choose the name."

"I think Blue's a great name… I want to call him Blue."

"Really?" he asked, stroking the kitten under his chin. The kitten purred and closed his eyes.

"Sure."

"Do you want to hold him?" Camille nodded, and Teddy carefully placed Blue in the palm of her hands. He was so soft, delicate and pretty. Camille gently stroked his fluffy fur and started to cry again. She brushed her tears away.

"Are you sad, Camille?" Teddy asked, his big blue eyes scanning her face apprehensively.

"No Teddy," she said, shifting her gaze from Blue to look kindly at Teddy. "I just really love my present - thank you! Would it be okay to give you a kiss?"

Teddy turned bright red and nodded shyly. Camille bent her head and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, this is the best present I've ever had." Olivia never allowed her keep a pet. She complained they were messy and needed too much attention.

Teddy leapt around excitedly and almost tipped over.

Camille and Teddy played with Blue, watching in amazement as he sniffed and rubbed his little wet nose in Camille's hand. She gave the little kitten a kiss and put him down on the bed. The two children grinned as Blue staggered around exploring his new environment. They soon started cooing and stroking the friendly kitten. Camille collected the lead from her iPad and dangled it in Blue's face and they both laughed as the kitten danced around trying desperately trying to stand on his hind legs, so he could claw and bite at the thin cord.

"He hasn't had his breakfast. We should go downstairs… he might like Daddy's pancakes," said Teddy, jumping down and turning to Camille.

She carefully picked up Blue, and after a little struggle managed to get him back in his holder and secure the door. She looked down at her outfit and used her hands to pull down her t-shirt in a vain attempt to straighten out the creases. But as soon as she left go of the shirt the creases bounced back in place.

"Do I look okay?" she asked nervously, feeling unsure about the protocol in the Grant household, when it came to meal times.

Teddy jerked his head back in confusion. He looked down at himself wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He raised his head to look at Camille and shrugged his shoulders.

"You look okay to me."

Camille hesitated. When Teddy reached the door, he placed his small hand on the doorknob and turned back to see Camille still sitting on her bed and simply staring at him.

"C'mon, we've got to hurry, 'cos Gerry's a pig, and he'll eat the whole lot," he complained, as though he were speaking from experience.

Camille laughed softly and jumped down from the bed. She slipped her hand through the top of the wicker carrier and picked up her new pet.

"Okay, let's go."

She smiled. Maybe today would be a good day, she thought.

* * *

**AN: _A short update but I wanted some fluffiness between Camille and Teddy. I'm currently working across the next three updates/chapters so please bear with me. Thank you for the sweet comments. I know some of you are dreading the arrival of the Wicked Witch of the West Wing (sorry! - it's going to happen), so I'm glad I could write a fluffy scene between the younger siblings – especially as Camille was feeling upset._**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators! (-;_**


	18. Chapter 13 Taken For Granted Part I

**Disclaimer:_ I don't own 'Scandal'_**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Taken for Granted Part I**

_Father, Father_

_Everybody thinks we're wrong_

_But who are they to judge us_

_Simply 'cause our hair is long_

_You know we've got to find a way_

_To bring understanding here today_

_What's Going On_ – Marvin Gaye

Fitz looked very domesticated dressed casually in jeans, t-shirt and a white apron in his spacious breakfast room. He was whisking pancake batter in a large glass bowl standing by the center island in the all-white fitted kitchen. Above his head were numerous hanging brass pots, pans and large cooking utensils. There were wall-to-wall windows over the kitchen units, which gave the room a light and airy feel and a fantastic view of the carpet-like green hills and outdoor swimming pool. An arch led to a dining area with a round oak table and four chairs.

He idly walked barefoot over white stained wooden floorboards onto the tiled flooring in the other room, to do a final check on the breakfast table. Ten minutes earlier, he'd laid out crockery and cutlery, jugs of freshly squeezed orange juice, water, condiments including butter, pots of jams, honey, maple syrup and an assortment of fresh fruit, yogurts, cream and bread rolls. With his freshly brewed coffee and bacon cooking in the oven, it all looked and smelt delicious.

Fitz let out a satisfactory exhale, quietly confident he'd created a comfy atmosphere he hoped would help Camille acclimatize to living with her new family. He lifted his chest and smiled as he thought about the encouraging start the children had made after yesterday's drama - so far so good. And, as if on cue, in the distance, he heard Teddy's high-pitched voice chattering away excitedly, and Camille giggling infectiously.

"Good morning," Fitz greeted Camille brightly, as she entered with Teddy.

"Good morning," she replied smiling.

"Teddy, did you wake up Camille?"

"No!' cried his son, indignantly.

"No I was already up," Camille assured Fitz.

"See!" Teddy huffed, glaring angrily up at his Father.

"Sorry TT, but I know how excited you were about seeing Camille," Fitz said kindly, and pointed to the wicker carrier she was carrying.

"How do you like your gift?"

"I love him!"

"Daddy, Camille wants to call him 'Blue'," squealed Teddy, running to Fitz and hugging his legs.

"Careful, son, I'm cooking... I think that's great." He nodded his head approvingly, and looked towards Camille.

Fitz's eyes narrowed as he watched his daughter put down the carrier. She appeared bright and breezy, but as she returned to standing his noticed her eyes were slightly downcast. Something was wrong.

"Daddy, where's the cat food?" asked Teddy, releasing Fitz and making his way back to Camille and Blue.

Fitz pointed to a lowdown cupboard. "In there, and make sure you put out some water."

He looked back at Camille but she was down on her knees trying to coax Blue out of the carrier.

Teddy collected the cat food. Together he and Camille prepared the fluffy little animal's breakfast, keeping a watchful eye on Blue cautiously sniffing around his bowl before attacking his meal with his dagger-like teeth.

Gerry appeared at the door dressed in a crumbled t-shirt and sweatpants. His thick hair was disheveled, and he pushed his fringe out of his eyes and rubbed his face.

"Hey, you managed to drag yourself out of your pit... how do you sit in front of that machine all night?" his father asked mockingly.

Gerry dismissed Fitz's comments with a wave. He yawned loudly and stretched. "Morning Dad, hey you two..."

Both Teddy and Camille looked up at Gerry.

"Hey Ger," said Teddy.

"Howdy squirt," he called back. Teddy pouted.

"Did you sleep alright, Camille?" the older boy asked, politely.

Camille smiled and nodded, still feeling tongue tied and shy around her older brother.

"Camille wants to call him 'Blue'," Teddy bragged to Gerry, with a glint of satisfaction in his eye.

"Oh, yeah?" replied Gerry suspiciously.

"Yeah!" Teddy shot back smugly.

Gerry carefully passed his siblings and Blue, and took a seat at the table. His sleepy eyes observed Camille and Teddy on the floor huddled together and fussing over the kitten gobbling up his food. He looked up and caught his father's gaze, and they both grinned and raised their eyebrows at each other.

"Tom get home alright?" asked Fitz, flipping his pancakes on the hot plate.

"Uh-huh... he's coming back later today, is that cool?"

"Yes, sure, no problem."

Fitz liked Gerry's friend. Tom's father was a successful Hollywood film director, and Tom was currently on his third stepmother and had a couple of half siblings and stepsiblings. So the Grant family's current situation didn't faze him. Tom could be trusted to be discreet. Fitz told Camille and Teddy to wash their hands and sit at the table because the pancakes were almost done. Using oven gloves, he removed crispy bacon rashers from the oven. Camille and Teddy joined Gerry at the table.

As she sat down next to Teddy, Camille gazed at the sumptuous spread and thought how delicious everything looked – a real feast of mouth watering goodies - and it made her tummy growl and rumble loudly. The two boys looked at her and burst out laughing.

"Sorry," she muttered, and turned bright red.

"Sounds like you need feeding," Gerry joked, and held out the platter of fruits.

"Yeah... I'm starving... thanks," she murmured, and helped herself to blueberries and wedges of melon.

Fitz came in balancing in two plates of pancakes and another stacked with bacon. Gerry grabbed the bacon one.

"Do you like pancakes?" he asked, putting down a plate in front of Teddy.

"Uh-huh, sure," she said quietly, blowing loose hair strains out of her face.

"Good." He set down the second plate down in front of her.

Fitz soon returned with another two plates, and then seated himself between Gerry and Camille.

"Okay, everyone tuck in."

Eating her pancakes, Camille absentmindedly started blowing at her fringe again. Teddy was fascinated by her actions and watched loose curls fluttering around his sister's masses of curly hair. He became mesmerized, and as though under a spell, he dropped his fork and instinctively went to touch one of her curls.

"Teddy, eat your breakfast," Fitz warned gently, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable by his young son's innocent curiosity.

"It's okay…" Camille assured Teddy. "You can touch my hair."

Teddy shyly looked at his dad who gave him a smiling nod, and he turned to Camille. She tilted her head to the side. Lifting his hand Teddy began gently stroking his sister's hair and rubbing his fingers along the curls hanging loosely from her bun. His big blue eyes sparkled with pleasure as he enjoyed the soft silk-like texture, and twirled one of the curls around his finger.

Fitz and Gerry took a break from their breakfast and exchanged slightly amused looks watching Teddy playing with Camille's hair. They completely understand the young boy's interest in the perfect blend of her parent's hair textures that resulted in Camille masses of curly streaky brown-coiled tresses.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Your hair's so soft and curly…you're so lucky," he said with a tinge of envy, and returned to his pancakes.

"It can get quite tangled up, and it's a pain to wash," Camille told him. "One day, I'm gonna shave it all off!"

All three Grant men looked at Camille in horror.

"Oh no!" cried Teddy in alarm. "You can't do that!" She laughed, explaining it was a joke she often made, and would never really go through with her threat.

The hair conversation created a neutral vibe for making small talk.

Camille was asked and talked about her life in New York: her school, friends, hobbies and interests. Teddy was thrilled to discover Camille liked art and made her promise to help him draw a picture of his favorite superhero _Spiderman._ She talked about the subjects she liked, best friend Jess and other friends she hung out with. The sports she was involved in and she'd how recently started playing tennis for the school team. Camille caught Fitz and Gerry exchange smirks when she mentioned tennis.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh, it's nothing…" replied Gerry between a mouthful of pancake. "Karen and I aren't big tennis fans, and Dad is tennis crazy, so you've got us off the hook," Gerry explained, laughing at his dad and saluting Camille with his orange juice.

"Oh…"

"We'll have to play sometime, but you'll have to go easy on me. I'm not as agile round the court as I use to be," Fitz said invitingly.

Gerry picked up the conversation and told Camille that he had recently graduated from Lawrenceville School and was starting Yale in September. Teddy chipped in with tales about his kindergarten, his friends, cousins, love of horses, dinosaurs and playing computer games. It was clear Fitz and Mellie shared custody of Teddy as part of their divorce agreement, but the way Teddy talked, he appeared to spend more time with his father than his mother. Karen was studying Medicine at Princeton, but had opted to take a year out to volunteer with the US Fund part of UNICEF.

During their breakfast Camille noticed there were staff members going about their duties outside, mowing the flat lawn encircling the house and cleaning the double fronted patio doors of the room they were dining in. Fitz and the boys didn't seem fazed or conscious of their presence. Taking in her splendid surroundings, Camille thought how strange to have people working in your house and going about your business like they weren't even there. Yes, she knew people who were well off, but this was on a completely different level.

She slowly ate her pancake similar to how she was slowly digesting her new family, with their opulent wealth and privilege. California was the right place to be because it sure did feel as though she was appearing in some Hollywood rags to riches movie: the poor lost girl, sad and alone in the world, discovered by her rich family, and living happily ever after. But as Camille picked at her pancake and watched a chatty Teddy, Gerry and him, she knew that wasn't her story. The fact remained she was the reality star of a scandalous affair. Documented a thousand times before: powerful politician has affair with employee. It was a bit _Downtown Abby_ - without the fancy costumes. Morally her existence was wrong – she shouldn't be here – and to prove the point, they had a special name for children like her, being repeated on YouTube and most likely other social media sites too.

There was a polite cough at the kitchen door and Fitz's PA Gabrielle tentatively entered. She started apologizing for interrupting their breakfast, but knew Mr. Grant wanted the latest news about visiting guests this morning.

"That's fine, Gabrielle. Come on in, there's someone I'd like you to meet. Camille, this is Gabrielle, she's my PA and works here, so you'll see her around from time to time. Gabrielle, this is my daughter Camille."

The woman smiled pleasantly at Camille and they shook hands, as Camille said a shy 'hello'.

"It's nice to meet you," Gabrielle said warmly. She turned to address Fitz. "You wanted to know when Mr. Beane-"

"_Are you aware we're in a recession with record breaking numbers in the job line? Now unless you get me that number, you will be joining that particular line dance. Okay buddy?_" Cyrus's thunderous voice barked unexpectedly behind Gabrielle, and caused the woman to nearly jump out of her Trina Turk suit.

"Cyrus," said Gerry and Fitz in unison.

Cyrus broke out in a huge smile when he saw Fitz getting up to greet him.

"Good to see you, Cyrus."

"Fitzgerald Grant. Are you trying to kill me off?" he joked, greeting his former boss and friend with a warm handshake. "Boys!"

"Hey, Uncle Cy," they shouted in unison.

But he'd already switched his attention to the pretty young girl half turned in her seat, staring curiously at him through luminous brown eyes.

"Cyrus. I'd like you to meet Olivia's… our daughter…Camille," said Fitz.

As the older man strode briskly towards Camille, his face grew increasingly shocked and ecstatic at the same time.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Cyrus, looking from a coy Camille to a grinning Fitz.

"This…she's…our Liv's baby…I'm just blown away. I'm sorry, it's just you're stunning - you look just like you mother," he gushed, extending his hand towards Camille. "Hello, I'm Cyrus Beane – your mom's old college professor."

Camille dipped her head to look at the older man through her long lashes.

"Hello, Mr. Beane, I'm Camille, my Mom's told me all about you," she said softly as they shook hands.

"I can't believe I'm only meeting you now," he sighed. "I've known your mother for a long time…I'm so sorry about her accident."

"Thank you," she replied.

Cyrus' phone rang, and he raised an apologetic hand.

"Aah, so you do know how to do your job," he said sarcastically down the phone. Cyrus mouthed he'd be upstairs and waved goodbye to the kids and Fitz.

"You'll get use to him," Gerry assured Camille.

"I've just got a message. Stephen Finch is half an hour away," Gabrielle confirmed.

"Fine, can you tell everyone I'll be up shortly, thank you." Gabrielle gave him a brief nod, said goodbye and left.

"Gerry, why don't you take Teddy out by the pool so I can talk to Camille," he instructed his eldest son.

"Oh, I want Camille to come," moaned Teddy.

"She's will TT, in a little while, I promise."

"Yeah, but I want Camille to come now," he whined.

"Teddy, remember there's a big story about me being Camille's dad and its big surprise? Well, we have to go make sure that everyone's okay with this surprise."

"Yes, sir," Teddy conceded reluctantly.

"C'mon, squirt…" Gerry teased his brother.

"Dad, tell Gerry," Teddy complained, getting down from his seat and dragging his feet behind the older boy.

"Gerry, don't tease your brother." Gerry mocked saluted his father and smiled sardonically at Teddy. The four year old stuck his tongue out.

"C'mere and give your dad a kiss," said Fitz returning to his seat.

Teddy expression instantly changed and sped over to Fitz and fell into a bear hug. Fitz rocked him in his arms and peppered his head with lots of kisses. Teddy giggled and wriggled, and hugged his dad back. Camille watched the affectionate display between father and son. It took her by surprise how openly loving and tactile he was with Teddy. He didn't seem to hold back.

"Camille, can I take Blue?" Teddy asked in a sugary tone.

"No," replied Gerry. "Archie and Bear are outside."

"Oh, stupid-dumb-dogs!"

Go on," said Fitz. "We'll see you in a minute," and gave Teddy a final pat on the back.

"How you feelin'?" asked Fitz.

Camille shrugged her shoulders, and nodded. She absentmindedly picked up her knife and began twirling the piece of cutlery between her fingers, and rubbing the serrated edge over her thumb.

"Camille..."

"I-I'm okay. Have you spoken to the hospital this morning?"

"Yes, your mom had a comfortable night. Abby and Stephen stayed at the hospital. I thought we could visit later this afternoon?"

She flashed at quick smile; but in an instant the upturn look vanished. Her eyes became downcast and she was dragging her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down.

"You can tell me if something's bothering you?"

"I-I went on YouTube."

Fitz scooted his chair up closer and bent over. Camille dropped her shoulders and shifted her gaze to catch his eye; their blue and brown eyes met in the middle.

"I don't need to tell you there's lot of ignorant and vicious people out there, who gain some kind of perverse pleasure in attacking others over the internet. It doesn't make it any less painful especially when those attacks are being aimed at you."

"I didn't know things could get this bad...people are calling my Mom horrible names... and me," she said hoarsely, thinking about the brutal words that splintered her heart and make her want to curl up in a ball and roll faraway.

"I know… I'm sorry."

"Have you seen it?"

"Yes, yes, I have. But I've also seen lots of positive comments from people too. It's why this press conference is important today, confirming my divorce from Mellie, and your mother and you. If it wasn't already clear from my 'boss-moves' yesterday," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

But she kept a grim expression as the words 'whore', 'skank' and 'ho' car crashed through her mind, and caused her body to involuntarily jolt back in her seat.

"I use to talk to my Mom about her work when she ran OPA…she'd tell me about her clients and some of the horrible stuff the newspapers wrote about them... I asked her how they coped... and she told me, she'd tell her clients: it wasn't personal - it was the story - that's all. That's how she'd help them stay focused and strong."

"Camille..."

"My Mom being's called a 'bootlip skank' and me a 'mutt gold digger', but I can't take it personally, right? I'm just the latest headline and it's just a story? I-it doesn't..."

"Camille, stop," said Fitz.

"Just a story..." she said repeatedly.

"Camille, stop," he shouted and grabbed her wrist. She looked down to see her thumb was bleeding.

"Oh," she said suddenly, and dropped the knife, and it clattered loudly against her plate.

"It's okay, let me look..." he began. His fingertips brushed her skin.

"No," she said fiercely, and snatched back her hand. "I'm okay," she said, pressing her thumb and index finger together. "Honestly, I-I..." A gasping breath left her lips and she bowed her head.

"It's okay, you're upset."

"I-I told you, I-" her voice cracked.

Fitz reached across the discarded breakfast plates and picked up the jug of water. He offered his hand to Camille, palm facing up.

"Don't..." she began tearfully. "Please, I told you I'm okay-"

Fitz ignored her. He took a clean napkin and dipped it into the jug of water. Taking her hand, he carefully dabbed the bleeding thumb and cleaned away the blood.

"Things are going to be tough for a while, but that's what family is for. We help each other in times of crisis."

"They're attacking me and my Mom because of the color of our skin."

"I know."

"Every cuss: it's black this, nigger that-"

Fitz exploded. He let out a deep rumbling growl from the back of his throat.

"You don't wanna hear me say it! Imagine what it feels like when someone calls you the worst name in the world."

Fitz lowered his head and rocked from side to side.

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"Making you feel like you're nothing..."

Fitz crushed the used napkin in his hand, and chucked it on the table in disgust, fuming at the emotional damage people could do with a keyboard. It burned him she thought he didn't care enough to feel her pain.

"You think because I'm not black it doesn't hurt me and make me angry when someone attacks you, my daughter, my family? It does. Their poison affects me - like it does you. We're both human, Camille, hate is hate and pain is pain, I can't separate the two emotions when it comes to the ones I love. If Karen, Gerry or Teddy were sitting here, as upset as you are, with me, right now, I would feel just as terrible!"

"Don't get angry with me," she sobbed, rubbing her watery eyes.

Fitz took a deep breath. He gently removed her hands from her face and brushed his thumb across her cheek. He stroked her hair and pushed it back behind her ear and cupped her face. She was so innocently beautiful and yet the brutal ugliness of real life stripped away her natural shine. He looked softly into her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm not angry with you."

She blinked once and stared at him.

"Camille, when I met your mother she literally blew me away. I won't lie and say I didn't see her color, because I did, and everything else that makes her the love of my life: her ethereal beauty, intelligence, wit, determination, her over-a-cliff attitude, loyalty, compassion - all the wonderful things that make your mom, my Livvie. Some people see one thing: color and their brains freeze up. They're walking round with their eyes closed, filled with this irrational hatred. How sad must they be? I almost feel sorry for them. Look at you guys with Blue? Do you think that cat sees color? No, he feels your love - it's that simple. Please don't think I'm not negating what you're feeling, but we can't let these people win."

"I guess..."

"Don't let a few narrow minded people stop you seeing the goodness in yourself and others. You are so loved. Why do you think I've been fighting tooth and nail with your Gladiator family these past couple of weeks? We. All. Love. You. Teddy's known you for five minutes and he's completely enamored with you. He wants to know everything about his big sister - that's what it means to live with an open heart."

Fitz chuckled and shook his head. "I told Karen last night, she's got competition."

"It was the best surprise, him buying little Blue for me."

"He wanted to make you feel welcome."

"He did... I do feel welcome… thank you."

"No, thank you. My children at home with me is what I want and everyone else can go to hell - sorry!"

A faint smile crept across her face.

"I'm sorry, it's- I wasn't expecting to see stuff like that, ya know?"

"I understand. It's bad enough when people make nasty comments, but the written word magnifies their abuse, and it can look a lot worse – eh?"

She nodded.

"You might want to avoid the internet for a few days," advised Fitz gently.

"I'm a kid. I live my life on the net."

"Well then you're not gonna like what I'm about to tell you," he said.

Camille sighed, resignedly. The bad news never seemed to stop coming.

"What now?"

"Huck wants to shut down all your social media accounts."

"Great! So now I can't chat to my friends."

"You have over a hundred thousand new followers on your Twitter account. Most are curious, others... well you've seen YouTube... I don't think it's worth exposing yourself to more upset."

"W-what... how many? This is out of control."

"Camille, I want to deal with this swiftly. So you can get back to some form of normal life."

She threw him a wide side eye look in despair. Did he really think normal was going to be likely considering the circumstances?

"The press conference today will finally set the record straight. I want you to read my statement beforehand so you're happy."

"Who's going to be at the press conference?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

"Well... beside me... Mellie."

"Where is she? Is she coming here?"

"She still in New York. But as part of our divorce agreement, we agreed to support each other publicly to protect you guys, the children."

Camille cocked up one eyebrow in suspicion.

"Mellie's in shock about the news, but she'll be here, don't worry," rushed out Fitz. Not wanting to give her any cause for concern.

"Does she have to be at the press conference?"

"Yes. It's important we prove we're a couple whose marriage sadly ended in divorce. Fortunately, we've been able to deal with our problems respectfully for the sake our children. I want you to know what's going on every step of the way – cards on the table. It's why I want you to read my statement."

Camille looked at him and nodded. She would go along with his plan. He had experience with big problems, but Mrs. Grant stalling could potentially make her current problems get a whole lot worse, so she would play her part and hoped his ex-wife would too.

"Sure, I want to help, but I really gotta call my Aunt and Grandma... is it okay if I read it when my Uncle Stephen gets here?"

"Yes, fine," he replied, with a huge sigh of relief.

* * *

**AN: _Hello, hope you guys enjoy this update._**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators!_**


	19. Chapter 13 Taken for Granted Part II

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Taken for Granted Part II**

_Life is very short, and there's no time  
For fussing and fighting, my friend.  
I have always thought that it's a crime,  
So I will ask you once again.  
Try to see it my way,  
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong.  
While you see it your way  
There's a chance that we may fall apart before too long.  
We can work it out,  
We can work it out._

_We Can Work It Out_ – The Beatles

* * *

"I'm surprised you came."

Fitz closed the door to his private office and walked over to join his former Chief of Staff on the couch.

"I am too… academia must've mellowed me," chuckled Cyrus. "James reminded me if Ella-Bella were in the same situation, he'd want either of us to do the same thing. He's calling you gallant, courageous, brave, valiant, bold, audacious… until he ran out of superlatives."

Fitz dipped his head and smiled broadly.

"I know after our phone conversation yesterday you'll find this hard to believe, but I came here to support you, see Liv and meet her daughter, who by the way, is an absolute stunner. How's she coping?"

"She was doing fine till she read the offensive comments online. I can handle most things but the racial abuse being aimed at her and Livvie has left me feeling powerless."

"The internet is a Godless Eden, and the content can make harsh reading. As parents we want to wrap our kids in cotton wool and protect them from the ugly side of human nature, but there are things way beyond our control… bullying, death... and racism is another example. James and I have learnt with Ella you have to be there and listen. You won't totally understand or get what your child is going through, but reassuring your daughter with your love is the next best thing."

"I didn't know people could be so vicious."

"C'mon Fitz, don't be blind, you know race is still a divisive issue in this country."

"Cy, it killed me this morning to hear Camille repeating the malicious names and accusations. She was heartbroken."

"You're talking about this issue and that's a good start. Keep listening and talking to her."

"Thanks. How's life back at Harvard?"

"It's not the White House but the hours are preferable."

"It's definitely a job you can only do for eight years." They both laughed.

"I didn't plan this Cyrus, the leak came from nowhere, and I had to protect my daughter."

Cyrus bristled and shrugged. "I learnt a long time ago, I can't fight you once you've made your stubborn mind up, anymore than I can stop the juggernaut that is the military industrial complex. Your achievements in office stand second to none, but you're going to be remembered as a philandering President with a lovechild."

"I restored this country's confidence and standing in the international community after the terror attacks, and found the most wanted man in the world."

Cyrus scratched the back of his head and looked solemnly at Fitz.

"Your achievement won't be papered over, but the public love what Mellie represents: good wholesome American values. She's always had a high approval rating, and her refusal to be at your side is problematic."

"I don't care. My daughter coming home with me is what I wanted," declared Fitz, stubbornly.

"Of course you care! Olivia's being vilified and Camille's face is out there. Damn! I'm sure your lawyers have told you we can't even issue an injunction against any pictures or videos because that ship sailed with your Starbucks stunt."

"It wasn't a stunt Cyrus," Fitz reminded him coldly.

"Sorry, fine your Daddy Day Care Rescue Mission. It's helping you look less like a lying cheating bastard, but the press and media are going for blood. Is Mellie-drama sticking to her guns?"

"She's playing hardball. But the kids are here with me, and Karen's flying back soon."

"It definitely works to your advantage having the children with you...but we're back to the press conference. The former Mrs. Grant has the active support of the Grand Old Party, and according to your PR team, currently seventy percent of the country is on side, but that's taken a five percent fall as the café st-video continues on its viral marathon. We need Mellie. Do you have another property or spare couple of million you can throw her way?"

"She's done very well out of the divorce. It's her pride, and once she's calmed down, she'll want to fly out and present to the world as Mother Gaia."

"But the problem is _now_. Delaying the press conference creates the perception you have something more to hide."

"I'll try speaking to her again."

"Good. Because I can imagine Richard Clark is whispering sweet nothings in her ear as we speak, and we need to squash that particular bug."

Gabrielle welcomed Stephen when he arrived at the ranch. After offering him the obligatory tea, coffee or cold beverage she took him up to Fitz's office. From the little he'd seen of the place this was another imposing room. Coming through the door was a coffee table, with two large couches facing opposite. Beyond the coffee table and couches, a large desk and chair under a window.

In the middle of the space was a large coffee table with couches either side facing each other, and beyond the coffee table a large desk and chair under a window. To the left, was an imposing fireplace with armchairs either side. Occupying the entire right side wall stood a ten-foot high built-in bookcase stacked with books, papers, folders, and statues; and leaning up against it a moving ladder to help reach items on the top shelf. The room was busy with Fitz's people on their phone and laptops. Stephen didn't know it but the room had an Oval Office feel about it.

Fitz's PA escorted Stephen through an adjoining door to her boss' private office. Fitz and Cyrus immediately stood up and exchanged pleasantries.

"Stephen, good to see," said Fitz.

"How's Camille?" queried Stephen.

"She's good. We had breakfast and she's hanging out by the pool with the boys and Blue."

"Blue?" asked a bemused Stephen.

"Her new pet," Fitz confirmed with a huge grin.

"She has a pet?"

"Uh-huh, Teddy brought her a kitten, they've named him Blue."

"You have a pet called 'Blue' in a 'Red' household?"

"I know! Kids – eh? I'm allowing this one to slip under the radar," joked Fitz, and all three men laughed. "Okay, shall we get down to business?"

Stephen cleared his throat.

"Frank Bourne. Twenty-eight years old, single, and living in Santa Barbara since graduating from UCLA. He's currently a freelance journalist and reports mainly local news. Nothing too exciting, but suddenly he's got the scope of the year!"

"Highly suspicious," commented Fitz. His eyes narrowed and he folded his arms across his chest. "He obtained DNA evidence confirming I'm Camille's father. He also knew to follow Camille, her grandparents and your guys to the airport."

"He's clearly got a contact at the hospital," Cyrus said darkly.

"You're suggesting he obtained evidence illegally. But that can't be possible since no news station would've touched the story if there was a hint of anything illegal," said Fitz to Cyrus.

"If you or Camille threw out trash when you were in Olivia's room and it was disposed of in a public area – he's committed no crime," commented Stephen.

"James pretty much said the same thing," said Cyrus.

"Is that what he's claiming? How much rubbish gets thrown out of the hospital every day? How would he know which trash came from Olivia's ward unless he had someone tip off him off? It's akin to buying a lottery ticket," Fitz charged, running is hand through his hair.

"Huck's methodically going through the hospital CCTV... this guy's been hanging around since you arrived, but there's nothing on camera showing him approaching any staff member and vice versa. But its early days and Huck's still looking."

"I want to know everything about this guy's personal life: jobs, family, friends, and colleagues," demanded Fitz.

"Abby's on it," confirmed Stephen.

"What about his phone records?" asked Cyrus.

"Like most journos, he's probably using an unregistered cell to cover his tracks," shot back Stephen.

"Do we know if any visitor spoke with him?" asked Fitz.

Stephen shook his head. "We know who he's working for or worked for previously and his home address. Huck's gonna pay an unscheduled visit tonight. We'll have a clearer picture later today. What going on with your press conference?" Stephen asked cautiously.

"My team has confirmed a venue, and invited a select few press and media I'll address. My statement's ready and Camille's agreed to read it."

"And Mrs. Grant… is she going to be appearing with you?" came back Stephen looking sternly at Fitz.

"Mellie's still in New York. My plane's waiting to fly her out here," said Fitz feebly and refused to meet Stephen's penetrating stare.

"That's not good," said Stephen, shaking his head and looking at both men.

"No, but Camille's onside, so we can tick that box. One down…"

"One to go," Cyrus finished with an exasperated sigh.

"I promised to let Camille know when you arrived. I'll just go get her," said Fitz, with a rueful smile.

* * *

When Camille and Fitz entered his office and she saw Stephen, she immediately sprinted across the room and they embraced each other warmly. Much as Camille was enjoying hanging out with Gerry and Teddy if felt comforting to be back in the familiar embrace of her loving uncle.

"Uncle Stephen!"

Cyrus's eyes flicked from Camille and Stephen to Fitz and caught Fitz's eyes narrow at the sight of Camille readily embracing Olivia's close male friend. Cyrus was slightly bemused at the appearance of the green-eyed monster but considering the infinite love his former boss had for her mother could he really be surprised?

"Is this the same girl who was fretting and worrying last night? Stephen said mockingly, hugging Camille tightly and kissing her forehead. "You seem to be doing alright," he continued, rubbing her back affectionately.

"Yeah, everyone's been really cool," she told him, with a cheesy grin.

"Camille, I'd like you to meet a few people," said Fitz, interrupting the happy pair.

Fitz guided Camille around the room and she met with his PR team. In between their various calls, emails and texts messages they stopped to shake hands and say 'hello' to their boss' daughter before carrying on with their professional duties. They were informing newspaper editors, broadcasters and key journalists that former President Grant would be holding a press conference later today and a time would be confirmed shortly.

"Gabrielle, can I get…" He held out his hand.

"Yes, of course Mr. Grant." Gabrielle came and handed him a sheet of paper.

"Shall we take a seat?" Fitz offered. Camille went over and sat down next to Stephen. "Here you go," Fitz said, sliding the statement across the table and he sat down next to Cyrus.

"Mr. Grant, you need to take this call," called out Gabrielle, dangling his desk phone at him.

"Excuse me," and Fitz left.

"Is his wife, I mean is Mrs. Grant here yet?" Camille asked Stephen.

Stephen and Cyrus exchanged serious looks as they sat opposite each other across the coffee table. He shook his head wondering how much he should tell her.

"I think his private jet is waiting to fly her out here."

"But isn't the press conference supposed to be happening today?"

"Yes, he's hired a venue, so he can address the press pretty much anytime today," he explained, albeit not too convincingly.

Camille narrowed her eyes at her uncle and then looked over to Fitz ending his call and making his way back to sit with Cyrus.

Camille suddenly felt a pressure worse than sitting an exam. After twelve years it had come down to this piece of paper in her hand, with him ready to confirm his actions in his own words. True to his word, his statement said everything he promised it would. By the time she'd finished, he'd sat back down next to Cyrus.

Looking up, Camille's chin dipped into her chest as she caught an intense look in his eyes. She wanted to see a flicker of doubt about what he was about to do, but there was nothing except hope.

Camille thought about her Mom and what Olivia Pope as a 'fixer' would do for her client. She remembered calling herself a reality star of a scandal - that wasn't going to go away. What about men in his position? They normally walked away. But he wanted to stand by his actions in Starbucks, and that might stop some of repulsive attacks. Protecting her Mom as much as possible was the most important thing, and the young girl realized right there and then, she had to be Olivia's voice through him.

"Camille, honey…" Stephen prompted her gently.

Camille shifted her gaze to Stephen and flashed him a quick smile. Rocking her head to the side she looked at Fitz with his hands clasped together, his blue eyes looking expectedly in anticipation. Camille looked back down at the piece of paper. Tracing her hands over the words she picked it up and taking a deep inhale took the paper between her fingers, tore it up and watched the torn pieces scatter onto the table.

Fitz clenched his jaw and took a sharp breath. He crossed his legs and raised his right hand to cover his eyes. Audible gasps, inhales, exhales and sighs from Cyrus and Stephen and a few others greeted Camille's actions.

"Clear the room," ordered Fitz in a harsh tone.

Everyone eyed each other nervously. His staff members hastily ended calls and snatched up their phones, laptops, and tablets. Stephen and Cyrus rose to their feet and exchanged apprehensive and puzzled looks. Camille kept staring at Fitz, but his hand remained closed over his face, so she tentatively made a move and started getting to her feet.

"No, you stay," he said quietly to his daughter.

* * *

**AN: _What a surprise! Mellie's hanging Fitz out to dry. Cyrus seems to be less bulldog-like, and what's Camille up to now? The little minx! Big thanks to all the readers who've recently opted to 'follow' this story or make it a 'favorite' - I appreciate the support._**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators!_**


	20. Chapter 13 Taken For Granted Part III

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_'Scandal'_****.**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**_Taken for Granted Part III_**

_Who's the man with the master plan?_

_Who's the man with the master plan?_

_Master Plan/Who's The Man?_ – The KayGee's

* * *

When the last person left and closed the office door, Fitz sighed heavily, removed his hand, uncrossed his legs and leaned forward and started tapping his fingers on the coffee table. His eyes sprung open and blue eyes met huge dark brown eyes firing sparks at him. Fitz's face was set in a grim expression as he stared at Camille, trying to figure out what the hell had gone wrong. Everything had been arranged and they'd made a pact at breakfast and she'd agreed with his press conference plans. Dealing with Mellie was annoyingly taking up too much of his thought process, and he didn't have the energy to start fighting with his daughter at this critical point in time.

Camille stayed calm. She could understand he might be a little angry by her actions, but she did have a reason - a good one - if he would give her a chance to explain.

"What's going on Camille? I thought you wanted me to help you and your mom."

"I do. But I don't think you should do this," she replied, jabbing at his ripped up statement.

"Camille, I need to respond -"

"My Uncle said Mrs. Grant hasn't turned up yet?"

Fitz closed his eyes and shook his head.

"But didn't you say Mrs. Grant had to be with you during the press conference?"

Fitz gave an exasperated nod and looked back wearily at Camille.

"Do you think you can do it without her?"

"It's going to be a challenge-"

"I have an idea

"You have an idea?"

"Yes."

"Which is?"

"Don't do the press conference."

"My people have already confirmed I'm holding a press conference today."

"So, change your mind."

"The public are baying for my blood, remaining silent is not an option."

"I know but -"

"That's how it works Camille, I-"

"Ugh! Can you just listen to me for a minute?"

"Sorry – shoot."

"Since we met you've been telling me how important I am to you but I didn't believe you. No matter how much times you said you were sorry and how much you loved me, your words meant nothing until you came for me at Starbucks. You went with your gut. That one move showed me how much you care. It's why I'm here. You made me believe. You say you want us to be a family. Then you have to make the world believe in your family. You're already halfway there… I'm here with Teddy and Gerry and Karen's on her way home. Do you get it?"

"Camille, I need Mellie -"

"No you don't. She did you the biggest favor by already visiting with my Mom at the hospital and acting worried and concerned - the nurses told me."

His brow furrowed. She did make sense. But. Camille pounced when she picked up on his reticence.

"How long have you and Mrs. Grant been divorced - a year, right? Okay, she's going to look pretty dumb playing the hard-done-by wife when it's so obvious she knows-knew you-you and my Mom have- have been, were, you know."

"Yes, I know."

"The public are on Mellie' s side, but her children are with you. Gerry and Teddy have been here over the summer vacation, and they're still here. You need to tell this story before she thinks about coming here and maybe leaving with them. While she's giving you the silent treatment and saying nothing, get your story out there. I'd go and meet with the reporters outside your house and confirm the story, and tell them you'll be doing a 'live' interview here at the ranch."

"You want me to go and meet with reporters, confirm the story and announce I'm doing a 'live' interview from my home?"

"If you do this press conference with your nicely printed out statement, you'll come across like every other politician caught cheating and making false platitudes with his wife by his side. It isn't fair on Mrs. Grant. She doesn't deserve to be pitied and you'll come across as a douche bag – sorry! - and that won't help you, or me and definitely not my Mom. If people could see you this morning looking like an _Iron Chef America_ contestant making us breakfast looking happy and relaxed they'd see the real you. That's the side of you the public must see and you'll win them over. "

"That's the private side of me," Fitz said softly.

"Did you care when you showed the world the private side of you yesterday?' she asked him quietly. The significance of that moment was not lost on either of them as Camille talked strategy. Father and daughter took a pause to share the faintest of smiles.

Fitz lowered his head and nervously scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

Camille blinked repeatedly and got back on track. "Look, you're trying to get the public on your side. You being home at the ranch… it feels natural to you… you want to come across as honest about your life, you can do that in your home with Teddy, Gerry and... me. This is the perfect setting," she said, the last few words to herself out loud. Her eyes widened and shone brightly. She smiled and clicked her fingers.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, with a self-satisfactory smirk at Fitz.

"I've never allowed reporters or the media into my home before."

She instantly dropped her chin to look up at him with stern brown eyes.

"You've never had to rescue one of your kids before." Camille held his gaze. "We're all doing things we never thought we'd be doing aren't we?" she added thoughtfully.

Fitz smiled at her in admiration. He'd played Devil's Advocate and she didn't miss a beat with her pinpoint responses.

"This is your best option. My Mom would agree. She'd want you to use the Starbucks video. People love a hero. It's why we flock to the movies to watch _Superman_, _Spiderman_ or _Optimus Prime_. Start the interview with the café footage and go from there. I promise you this -it's going to help you prove, okay, yes, you made mistakes, but you can show everyone you have the trust of your children and this is who you really are."

"And what's that Camille. What am I?"

"You're a... you're a dad looking after your family," she mumured softly.

Fitz raised his eyeborws in suprise and smiled broadly. He searched her now blushing face and she turned away refusing to meet his joy at her answer. Could she be on the verge on thinking of him as her father? Or was it just the narrative she was purely focused on and he'd embarrassed her by taking her comment too literally?

"So anyway, I bet you know lots of famous presenters like Oprah Winfrey?" She was back to cool as a cucumber.

"Oprah's a bit obvious."

She raised one eyebrow up at him.

"What about what our earlier conversation, and the way you talked about my Mom? This isn't just about race, you said, it's about love and family, so you can talk to anyone. If your story is true it will translate."

He couldn't disagree with anything she said. She was practically forcing him to eat his own words and prove he meant everything he said to reassure her at breakfast when she felt at her lowest ebb.

Camille rolled on. "If you're not happy with Oprah, maybe um… what's her name, that reporter my Mom really likes...?"

"You're referring to Kimberley Mitchell?"

"Uh-huh."

"She works for FOX News and it allows for continuity seeing as they broke the story."

"See!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

"Camille, are you seriously comfortable with me talking about you 'live' on television?"

"If talking about me helps do it."

"I'll be asked about my relationship with you."

Camille shrugged her shoulders like it was no big thing. "We've always known about each other since I was born; we just never met. You don't tell them that bit, but there are things you must already know about me from my Mom and over the last couple weeks. Obviously you can leave out the me trashing stuff part."

Camille's off the cuff remark gave him an opportunity to chuckle and think about the implication of going on 'live' TV and declaring he'd known about her existence from the start to give credence to her Olivia Pope Inspired Plan. Looking into her expectant eyes he wanted to please her - much as this was a risk of gigantic proportion - her plan was brilliant and he could see how thrilled she was she could help. But the downside to her clever plan meant he would have to lie about knowing her since she was born and that had huge implications.

"Um-but?"

"What's wrong?" she asked him suspiciously.

"Nothing. Honestly, I think it's a good plan. We should do this."

She squealed and grinned wildly at him, clapping her hands together and laughing.

"Sweet! You won't regret it."

"I'll be the one controlling the narrative."

"Excuse me?"

"The correct phrase is: control the narrative – it's what your Mom would say."

"Sounds 'bout right."

He shook his head smiling at her. "I just want you to be sure."

"I am. Maybe once you told your side of the story it'll make them go away and leave us alone."

Fitz was virtually speechless. Two weeks ago she stated quite clearly she was here for Olivia not him. She hated him. She'd yelled at him. Ignored him. Plotted against him. But now she was fighting for him. Coming up with ideas to save his skin. His estranged daughter of twelve years living with him and talking about 'his children' him 'being a dad' and 'leaving us alone' as though she were an integral part of the family.

Camille sprung up out of her seat and placed her hands on her hips.

"I told Gerry and Teddy I wanted to visit the stables to see the horses. Can I go now? ... Hello!"

Fitz's head shot up and jerked back. He was surprised to see her standing tall, gazing at him, and waving her hand impatiently in his face.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said I asked Gerry and Teddy to show me the stables? Can I go?"

"Fine, yeah. Can you ask the others to come back in?"

"Sure." And off she bounced.

"Camille."

She looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"S'ok."

* * *

"He wants to see you guys," Camille announced cheerily, to the concerned faces staring at her standing in the corridor. She then ran off to meet up with Gerry and Teddy.

Once everyone had congregated back in Fitz's office every pair of eyes was fixed on him, as he remained seated, with a bemused look on his face.

"Fitz… _Fitz,_" repeated Cyrus impatiently, hissing under his breath.

"What happened? Camille's bouncing down the corridor like she's won backstage passes to see One Direction," commented Stephen.

"I think I've just had a meeting with Olivia Pope. Excuse me, I have to call Mellie," said Fitz, rising to his feet and shaking his head in amusement.

"Um, Mr. Grant what are we saying about the press conference?" asked Gabrielle.

"Gabrielle, everybody, there isn't going to be a press conference. In the next," he looked down at his Ebel watch, "say, hour, I'm going to confirm the story from the ranch gates and I'm going to need you to organize a 'live' interview."

"A-a 'live' interview... but... where?"

"Fitz?" asked Cyrus.

"I'm doing the interview right here, so start looking into who wants to make history. I'll leaning towards Oprah or Kimberley but at this moment in time, I'll take Bill O'Reilly."

"What do you want Fitzgerald?" Mellie's brittle voice down the phone made Fitz wince as he leaned back against the desk back in his private office.

He wanted to pluck out his own eyelashes as he prepared himself to listen to another 'Mellie Motor Mouth Monologue'.

"Are you ready to talk?" he asked calmly down the phone.

"You want to talk to me after your blatant disregard for my feelings. I warned you about your irresponsible behavior at that hospital… and the piece de resistance, your Jerry Springer inspired Starbucks scene. Have you lost your mind? I have done everything you asked and this is how you repay my loyalty towards you by strolling into that café confirming she's your daughter with no thought for me or your other children. You don't care about the amount of shame and embarrassment you heap on me as long as you get to do what you want you selfish inconsiderate bastard…"

He rolled his eyes a couple of times and eventually they glazed over as he listened to his former wife rant on and on to him down the phone. He thought it best to let her get whatever she had to say out of her system, without any interruption from him. He knew if he tried to interject she wouldn't listen being too caught up in her diatribe against him. And on and on she yapped...

"My family thinks I'm crazy to even consider getting on a plane and allowing you to force me to stand by your side and smile for the cameras as you drag me down into the abyss with you and your whore. My settlement is not worth this amount of humiliation."

"Actually, I don't."

Mellie's mouth half hung open and she froze like she'd been caught in Medusa's stare and turned to stone.

"W-what?" she eventually spluttered out.

"I don't want you to face the cameras with me. There's not going to be a press conference."

"Are planning on doing a disappearing act? How courageous of you!"

"No, I'm going to stand at the gates of my home and speak to any reporters armed with a microphone or camera and confirm that Camille Pope-Grant is my daughter. How sorry I am I've hurt and embarrassment you, and my four children. I will confirm our divorce and my relationship with Olivia. And, out of respect for the office I held for eight years, I'll be conducting a 'live' interview from the ranch tomorrow."

"When did you decide this?"

"About ten minutes ago. It's Camille's idea. She didn't think a press conference would be fair on you."

"Huh!" Mellie snorted rudely. "I-I ... you need me beside you to sell this fairytale."

"No I don't, Camille pointed out that you did me a huge favor coming to the hospital and visiting Olivia."

"You must feel so proud to have another Pope working for you."

"I am... since she reminded me when you came to the hospital you were charm personified. Your concern for Olivia was touching, the beautiful flowers and heartfelt words in your card. Thanking the medical team with a fruit basket and chocolates. The hospital is bending over backwards to accommodate me since the leak, and I'm sure they'll be happy to confirm your heart-warming display. So forget playing the indignant wife; it won't work. Come to Santa Barbara and play your part - one last time - or look like the mother you really are - it's your choice. But remember... I still have the Millicent Grant audio diary collection."

"You wouldn't. You made a promise. You played that hand to win your divorce."

"Tough. I've abandoned all rules in the fight to protect my daughter who's being subjected to the most horrific abuse, and I will do anything and everything to defend her."

"At what cost to your other children?"

"At the cost of keeping my family together - finally!"

"Fine, you make your pathetic statement. I'll tell my version of events, and I can assure you it won't be pretty."

"Mellie, you wanting to see me crash and burn so you can dance on my grave will only hurt Karen, Gerry and Teddy."

"You hurt my children the minute you impregnated your whore. God you're so like your father!"

"I'm nothing like my father."

"The only difference is Big Gerry knew you only screwed the help; you didn't invite their offspring to live in your home and shame your children born into wedlock."

"Are you talking about the two children you insisted on shipping off to boarding school as soon as we moved into the White House?"

"In hindsight, an astute move on my behalf. Do you know how often I thank _God_ they weren't around to see their idealistic, romantic, idiotic father moping around like some love-sick puppy and then morphing into a raging alcoholic when his mistress left him?"

"No, they much preferred the icy atmosphere and long periods of silence between us they witnessed over the years."

"We were a family. We were fine. You and I had the same belief system and aspired to the same goals. We made a fantastic team - everyone said so - Millicent and Fitzgerald Grant - the golden couple - and you ruined it for love." She spat out the word 'love' as though it were a foul utterance.

"I wanted a friend, a confidant, a lover."

"You're disgusting."

"I found love and realized what was missing in my life - that makes me disgusting? I feel sorry for you, Millicent. I hope if anything I've taught our children that love is the most important thing, and holding onto that love no matter what."

"You taught _our_ children to be scared of their father. They refused to come down for the holidays. Karen went completely off the rails. Do you remember she was nearly expelled from Lawrenceville and the community service order? Do you?"

"Yes, I do Mellie. I also remember putting the lid back on the bottle and actively supporting Karen through her troubles. Me. Not you. You were always great at highlighting our children's problems, never solving them. I don't think it helps anyone to have these bad trips down memory lane. What's done is done. You, Olivia and I planned to do this with as little drama as possible. I know you didn't want the divorce, and the last thing I want is to cause you any more distress. But Olivia's accident and the leak... these are events outside my control.

"You know us presenting as a family is what it's about. You being here just for your presence alone can help the children. It demonstrates to the public we're just another extended family unit, which is what we are. I'll take the brunt of this. I'll take the punches that come swinging my way. I'm happy to keep you in the background. But if you want to stick it out in The Hamptons and plot some kind of revenge, then let's do this. Let's bring the whole House of Grant down. You talk and I'll talk; about your fake miscarriage, and your conspiracy with Hollis Doyle to rig my first election before Olivia stepped in to stop your little plan. I have the evidence to back up everything I'm saying - you know this. Is this what you want to put our children through?"

Fitz took a pause so they could both digest what he'd just said.

Mellie's perfectly manicured fingers were wrapped around the phone, her finger nails digging into her flesh, wishing it was his neck she had a hold of.

"So, shall we start this conversation again?" and his left eyebrow rose slightly.

"Screw you, asshole!"

He then sent her a follow-up text message: _If you refer to my daughter's mother as a whore or make any other derogatory remarks about her while you're staying here, either in my presence or to any family member, staff or visitors to the ranch, I will personally escort you off my property and you'll be banned for life. Patrick is more than welcome to visit with you. Have a safe journey._

* * *

Fitz had just finishing relaying his conversations with both Camille and Mellie, virtually word for word, to Cyrus and Stephen. Cyrus shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in admiration for the feisty twelve year old, who sounded like his brilliant former student. He wished he'd been in the room.

"She's right," said Cyrus. "Didn't you say Mellie played the sympathetic friend?"

"No one's gonna believe she didn't know about you and Liv and didn't go along with the program," piped in Stephen.

"If Mellie was going to say something or attach herself to some worthy cause to gain public sympathy she would've done it already," said Fitz thoughtfully.

"We might just be able to pull it off. I like the idea of you being interviewed at the ranch surrounded by your children - not on camera, like pawns - just doing what every normal American family is doing during the summer vacation," said Cyrus. "It has the air of authenticity about it - the perfect setting."

"That's exactly what Camille said," gushed Fitz to Cyrus.

"Is she planning a career in politics? I wouldn't mind helping a Pope woman ascend to the greatest office in the world."

"You're got fierce competition from Romare Bearden," laughed Stephen.

Fitz faux smiled and at the same time pushed his hands deep inside his pockets. It chipped away at him Stephen instinctively knowing more about his own daughter than him. He had no idea who the hell Romare Bearden was; the only thing he could ascertain was this man clearly didn't have a career in politics. These little reminders just brought home to Fitz the lost years between him and Camille. But right now, he had to set aside his own angst to focus on building a positive relationship with her, and giving her plan the green light was the ideal start. He cleared his throat.

"Let's do this," he said in commanding manner.

"I'll get on the phone to James," said Cyrus. "Give me a minute," he said, making his way to leave and call his husband.

The door closed and silence kicked in. Fitz braced himself for the voice of reason.

"How are you going to handle the questions about the last twelve years of her life? You're going to be asked about your relationship with Camille." Stephen told him firmly.

"I'll tell the truth Stephen, as much as I can. I was in touch whether or not Camille received my cards, letters and gifts I was in touch. I don't need to expand. I can explain Liv and I broke up, she went to live abroad - which is true. Mellie and I worked to save our marriage but ultimately couldn't resolve our differences and divorced. After I stepped down Olivia and I reunited."

"You're going to have to lie and say you knew about Camille from the start?"

"Yes."

"And you said she asked you to be honest. No more lies."

"Camille knows I'm going to have to talk about her as though we were in touch. She's agreed to this Stephen."

"You know what I'm inferring to Fitz. Camille believes you've known about her since she was born. She's finally beginning to open up to you. Is this how you want to start your relationship?"

"I have no choice. Mellie's no show today causes problems. My statement in less than an hour and follow-up interview is the best way to go. It puts the ball firmly in Mellie's court. I can confirm the kids are with me and we're having challenges like any other family."

"Mellie's going to show up, at the very least, to act like the concerned mother or she's going to look heartless."

Fitz nodded in agreement.

"How do you think she'll be with Cam?"

"It's hard to say when she keeps referring to Olivia as a whore. But Karen and the boys want to support their Mom as well as Camille."

"I don't want it to seem as though I'm recanting on my support, but do remember, Cam's welcome to stay with us for a few days... if things get tricky shall we say."

"I've made it clear, I'll personally remove Mellie from the ranch if she starts bad mouthing Olivia. Camille is dealing with enough name-calling and abuse outside these four walls. I won't tolerate anyone upsetting her in own home."

"You'll forgive me for having concerns about your rather vocal former wife. I'm worried she knows too much, and this could backfire on you."

"Stephen, there are some things I can explain to Camille and other things need Olivia. In her current state of mind, I can't let Camille think negatively about her mother. I can handle Mellie. I've got too much on her. She won't blab."

"What about the other children?"

"No, they've always believed I knew about Camille. I've never had any reason to believe Mellie said anything to Karen or Gerry."

"So you're going to do this."

"I'm going to do this."

"Fine, I'll leave you to it then."

"I'd appreciate you being here for the next few days?"

"Of course I'm happy to be here to support Camille."

"Thanks. I'll get you set up in the room next door to Camille. Would you mind asking Gabrielle to come in?"

He nodded and made his way to the door.

"Stephen."

He stopped and turned to look at Fitz.

"Yes?"

"Who's Romare Bearden?"

"He's an artist. I remember Cam telling me Olivia's former boyfriend Jake took her to see his exhibition at The Met Museum last year. You should know she takes free art classes there."

Fitz gave him a rueful nod.

"Thanks."

* * *

Shortly after Stephen left the room, Gabrielle entered and stood before her boss ready to perform any request to support him through his current ordeal.

"Mr. Grant?"

"How we doing out there?"

"We're in touch with most news stations and just about managing to keep them at bay. Good news on the Starbucks video from social media monitor BlitzMetrics. Dan says it's showing an increase in the number of viewer's comments supporting your actions."

Fitz smiled at this news because it confirmed Camille's view, on using the footage as part of his narrative. He began absentmindedly drawing circles with his foot in the carpet, and suddenly seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"We think what you did was very courageous," his PA told him.

"Thank you, Gabrielle."

"And your daughter. She's a smart girl. You must be proud."

"I am," he replied softly, his right sliding across the carpet in zig-zags. He sighed loudly and cleared his throat.

"Mr. Grant, are you okay?"

He looked up into his PA's concerned face and smile kindly at her.

"I'm fine, can you do me a personal favor?"

"Of course."

'Can you call The Met in New York?"

* * *

**AN: ****_You go girl! I think Olivia would be proud – eh? Fitz and everyone else are on board, except Mellie and Stephen for very different reasons. Love reading the reviews - such a wonderful boost! Thank you._**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators!_**


	21. Chapter 14 Lose Yourself

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_'Scandal'_****.**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**_Lose Yourself_**

_Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity _

_To seize everything you ever wanted, one moment _

_Would you capture it or just let it slip? _

_Yo_

_Lose Yourself_ - Eminem

* * *

The last time Fitz poured himself a drink was the night he returned home after meeting Camille for the first time, and the Gladiators refused to let him see or speak to her. He'd done well controlling his urges to reach for the bottle every time he faced an emotional crisis concerning Olivia. His former wife spoke a profound truth. His drinking had become problematic after Livvie's disappearance, and he'd spent the next twelve months soaked in booze and wandering around like a ghost from West Wing past. Cyrus had dutifully stepped in to operate as 'President' during his lost year.

But the blatant lie he would be forced to tell, niggled away at him, and the craving to gain a little external courage held him captive.

He brought the glass of whisky and ice to his forehead and closed his eyes as Stephen's warnings pounded away at his brain. He strolled casually over to the window and in the distance he could see three figures and two dogs, on their way to the stables. Fitz's eyes twinkle with delight and a huge smile spread across his face. He took his time absorbing the beautiful miracle from the comfort of his private office. This was it. This was the dream – his precious treasures together and under one roof. Sure, Karen wasn't here, but, she was here in spirit and that would be good enough - for now.

Fitz couldn't have been happier when Camille told him his one action made her believe in him. It took him going with his gut to change her opinion. He accepted she wasn't totally on board and there were still trust issues to overcome, but he'd managed to chip away at some of her steel armor. Potentially all the hard work could unravel with this one false move.

But the last sixteen hours Camille been through the trenches and deserved some respite. It was his fatherly duty to alleviate some of the pressure and go along with her wishes. Fitz would support her mom's story until Livvie was back with them and things were perhaps calmer, and the three of them could speak candidly. At the present time, the last thing Camille needed to know was the one person she trusted had betrayed her. He was playing the long game.

Fitz took a long drink. He needed to dumb himself into believing he was making the right decision. He retraced his steps back to the couch and sat down. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and did something he tried to avoid doing because the memory was so overwhelmingly painful. But he had to go with the flow. Settling back even further into the couch, he let his mind wander back to Election Night 2008...

* * *

**AN: ****_Fitz is taking a moment to reflect upon recent events with Camille._****_ You've been wonderfully patient, so here we go, back in time... _**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators!_**


	22. Chapter 15 Election Night 2008 Part I

**Disclaimer: ****_I don't own 'Scandal'._**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

**_Election Night 2008 Part I_**

_She's Gone Oh I, Oh I'd_

_Better learn how to face it_

_She's Gone Oh I, Oh I'd_

_Pay the devil to replace her_

_She's Gone - what went wrong _

_She's Gone_ – Hall & Oates

* * *

Olivia's eyes flipped back in outright shock watching Mellie's glowing face smile adoringly at her husband. Fitzgerald Grant III had just been declared winner of the 2008 US Presidential Election.

It wasn't Fitz's victory that caught Olivia by surprise, but Mellie's unscheduled announcement she was pregnant with the couple's third child. Those last two words were reverberating in Olivia's ears, and blocking out the concert-style excitement from the Republican crowd and her colleagues standing next to her on the sidelines.

The Grant family looked comfortable taking centre stage. Fitz and Mellie were hugging Karen and Gerry, and simultaneously, smiling, waving and shouting 'thank you' to their ecstatic supporters. Grant posters and banners and flags were flapping wildly in the air and horns were blasting out loudly - raising the roof. The auditorium had literally exploded like a red, white and blue Christmas cracker complete with big bold colors and pistol popping bangs.

Olivia was dead to it all. She only came out of her trance-like state when she caught Fitz's eye, but she looked straight through him and his jaw hit the floor.

She jolted forward, when a hand slammed around her shoulders, and hugged her wildly.

"Olivia! We've done it again! Can you believe it?" crowed Cyrus in her ear.

Olivia plastered on her biggest fakest smile, and turned to her friend and colleague.

"It's fantastic, Cyrus. More than we could have hoped for."

"And Mellie pregnant! This is officially the greatest day of my life. Dammit, I'm sorry Liv, I -" he stopped, and looked almost apologetic. The adrenalin rush had been too much for Cyrus. He could barely contain himself and was practically salivating at the prospects of another four years in the White House.

"No apology necessary. We couldn't have scripted it better ourselves. She's having…" and Olivia half heartedly returned her gaze to the stage, to see Mellie milking the applause and waving excitedly. "She's having 'America's Baby' - that guarantees him an extended honeymoon period."

"Always thinking like the pro you are, 'America's Baby' - eh? I love it. You're a genius Liv," cooed Cyrus. "Hey you!" he called out to a nearby member of the campaign's production team. Cyrus spoke intensely to a young man, who was nodding his head every few seconds, and then he fled.

Moments later Fitz stepped forward and leaned into the microphone. The crowd up their noise live and their cheers hit a new decibel high. Fitz laughed out loud and waved his hands in a downward motion, and his supporters became less frantic. He looked over his shoulder at Mellie, and offer his hand, which she took eagerly and joined Fitz at the hip.

"I want to thank my beautiful wife for giving me the best gift any man could ask for. A gift we can all celebrate tonight: '_America's Baby!'_" The crowd went into overdrive: screaming, whistling and stomping. Shortly afterwards chants of 'America's Baby' began ringing around the auditorium. Fitz turned to Karen and Gerry and smiled affectionately his two blessings. And shortly afterwards, the newly elected First Family were all holding hands like a daisy chain.

Olivia legs buckled at the sight of the family's intimate posture. She began to feel breathless and quickly inhaled to catch her breath. She tore her eyes away from the picture perfect scene and looked for an exit. The baby news was proof of his betrayal - it tipped her over the edge. She had to leave and unburden herself from the crushing worthlessness she felt... being in love with the most powerful man in the world.

"Well, this genius has had enough fun for one evening, I'm heading back to the campaign office," Olivia shouted in Cyrus' ear.

"Seriously, you're not sticking around? C'mon Liv, you should stay and celebrate, you can't leave."

"I've given him the soundbite of the year," she nodded, indicating to the crowd, joyfully chanting 'America's Baby'. "My work here is done."

Cyrus's eyes became cast down and he felt genuine disappointment Olivia couldn't enjoy their hard fought victory. Olivia felt guilty, and explained she had some last minute paperwork, and would maybe join the party later. But they both knew it was a lie and the next time they'd see each other would be back in DC. They hugged and kissed goodbye, and Olivia left without looking back.

* * *

When the First Family eventually left the stage, Fitz ensured the children were taken care of, and then sought out Cyrus. Mellie hovered anxiously beside him and pressed her hand against his palm, but he subtly put his hand in his pocket. Working his way through the small crowd, his loyal staff offered 'congratulations' and pats on the back, which he accepted graciously with his trademark-dazzling smile. But inside he felt smothered. He had to escape to see Olivia and explain Mellie's explosive revelation. Finally getting to Cyrus, he clamped his arm around the older man's shoulders and embraced him closely.

Mr. President!" Cyrus yelled with delight, and returned his embrace.

"Where is she?" asked Fitz, firmly in his ear.

"Forget about -"

"Cyrus, I'm sure you don't want to witness the shortest Presidential win in history. Now where is Olivia?"

"She's gone back to the campaign office," he said resignedly.

* * *

Fitz slumped against the wall outside the campaign office. He'd rushed to get here, but now he'd arrived he was paralyzed with crippling fear. His feet couldn't take him over the threshold. What could he say to her? He was a liar and cheat – guilty to both charges! Could he explain it had been a one-off? He'd been drunk, angry? His row over dinner with Big Jerry and her rejecting his clumsy advances had pushed him into Mellie's arms? She understood better than most the angst between him and his now deceased father - who'd passed away during the last leg of the campaign. He'd wanted to hurt Olivia so badly that night, but not like this. Never like this. He jumped, hearing the faint scrapping sound of a chair followed by clipped heels crossing the tiled floor.

Now, he told himself, you man-up, go in, and get down on your knees if you have to, and beg forgiveness.

At that precise second Olivia opened the glass office door and her phone rang. Sighing heavily, she stopped and pulled it out to answer.

"You're not supposed to call me on unless it's an emergency," she said abruptly, turning off the office's lights.

"Hey Liv, I had to check in and see you were okay," said Stephen. "Oh honey, we were just watching. Did you know?"

She shivered and closed her eyes, as fresh tears formed again. Why did Stephen have to remind her about tonight, when she so wanted to forgot and bury her heartache deep inside a black hole! That earlier heavy lead weight feeling she experienced back at the auditorium overwhelmed Olivia again, causing her body to give out, and she collapsed against the nearby wall.

"Liv...?"

"N-no," she choked out. "No, I-I didn't know."

"Do you think he knew she was about to declare to the world she was pregnant?"

"Who knows… he looked pretty surprised, and Mellie being Mellie, she's probably been hatching the whole plan for weeks for maximum effect."

"Oh Christ, can I just say how much I hate that man."

"Get in line."

"I'm so sorry, Liv."

"Why? I was the one dumb enough to take a job with a man who turned out to be the most toxic love of my life."

"You took a chance and opened your heart."

"But you warned me and I didn't listen," she sobbed. "He even fooled me into believing he wasn't having sex with her."

"You trusted him. Where are you now?"

"I've just left the happy couple at the auditorium and I'm back at the campaign office."

"Liv, have you thought about pushing forward your next visit?"

"Is Camille okay, she's not sick or anything?" she asked worriedly, and felt annoyed that hadn't been her first question.

"No honey, she fine, I promise. I thought after this evening..."

"Yes, it's a good idea. I guess she's sleeping?"

"Yes, we've got a big day tomorrow, we're driving down to the country to visit with Georgia's mother."

"She'll love that…"

"Not as much as seeing her mummy. She really missed you after your last visit - more than usual."

"I'll surprise her next week," she reaffirmed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down nervously.

"I'll make sure we're back in time."

"I can't believe it's been eight years already. Eight years," she repeated wistfully. "She's not a baby anymore – she's my big girl. The plan was get myself financially secure - quit OPA - and back with Cami."

"And telling him about his daughter?" Stephen reminded her carefully. "I mean, you -"

"I-I can't have that conversation right now,' she interrupted her close friend softly. "But one thing I can say is, tonight's announcement changes everything."

"Are you thinking about leaving DC?" asked Stephen. Olivia paused, thinking about what it would mean to leave DC and the impact on her Gladiators and him.

"Liv…"

"We made promises to each other and he lied to me. I've lost so much of who I am in this relationship," she told Stephen with regret.

Hating how pathetic she sounded, Olivia quickly cleared her throat and switched her focus to the one person that mattered. "When Cami wakes up, can you tell her mommy loves and misses her, and give her a big kiss for me."

"Absolutely."

"I-I've got to go," she said, thinking about the resignation letter burning a hole in her handbag.

"You call me back if you want to talk – anytime."

"I'll be fine. Thank you. I – we both owe you guys so much."

"You don't owe us a damn thing - we love you."

"I love you guys too, 'night."

"Goodnight, Liv. Take care of yourself, and don't let the bastards get you down," he advised, half joking half serious. She pierced her lips together in a grimace, and sighing with a heavy heart, hung up.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she dreamed about a long hot bath back at the hotel before her flight to DC. Feeling for the keys in her coat pocket, Olivia took one step, gasped out loud, and leapt back in horror!

Without a sound from nowhere, Fitz stepped out from the shadows and in through the door.

* * *

**AN: ****_Thanks for the kind reviews – it's lovely to read your thoughts and have your support. I'm sorry, I had to leave it here. I think Olivia and Fitz need a minute or two._**


	23. Chapter 15 Election Night 2008 Part II

**Disclaimer: _I don't own 'Scandal'_**

* * *

**AN: ****_In my AU story, I've messed around and cherry picked from the show's original story, plots and timeline, which may've led to some confusion, which in hindsight may not have been such a good idea – but you live and learn right? Therefore I'm reproducing my timeline from a previous chapter for clarity. _**

* * *

**1999** (Jan) Olivia and Fitz have a one-night stand

**1999 **Camille Pope is born

**2000** Fitz becomes State Governor of California

**2003 **Olivia joins the Grant campaign team

**2004 **Fitz becomes POTUS, Olivia works briefly in the White House and later sets up OPA (Big Jerry is still alive and Camille is four years old)

**2008** Fitz wins a second term, Olivia resigns from OPA and leaves DC (Big Jerry dies and Camille is eight year old). Gladiators work with Olivia to hide from Fitz

**2011** Olivia and Camille return to New York, Olivia dates Jake

**2012** Fitz steps down as POTUS and reconnects with Olivia after four (4) years

**2013** Olivia's accident, Camille meets Fitz

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**_Election Night 2008 Part II_**

_No matter how I think we grow You always seem to let me know _

_It ain't workin' It ain't workin' _

_And when I try to walk away You'd hurt yourself to make me stay _

_This is crazy This is crazy _

_I keep letting you back in How can I explain myself _

_As painful as this thing has been I just can't be with no one else _

_See I know what we got to do _

_You let go and I'll let go too _

_'Cause no one's hurt me more than you _

_And no one ever will_

_Ex-Factor – _Lauryn Hill

* * *

Olivia's eyes were blinking furiously. She hated that her first thought was how stunningly handsome he looked in his dark blue suit and crisp white open neck shirt. Even in the dark Olivia could see his brilliant blue eyes glittering in that mesmerizing way, reminding her of the first time she saw him. Her second thought: worrying how long he'd been listening in the dark and how to escape as quickly as possible.

"W-what are you doing here?" she gasped.

"Cyrus told me you'd come back to the office. I had to talk to you," he replied softly, studying her reaction carefully.

"I didn't hear you. How long have you been out there?"

"Why's that important."

"It's not. Excuse me," she retorted in a ballsy manner, to cover up the fact her mind was spinning like a top.

"We need to talk."

"We have nothing to say to each other. I have nothing to say to you - trust me," she said icily.

Olivia moved to pass him. But Fitz slammed his hand against the wall and his arm stuck out like a flat bridge - barely inches away from the tip of her nose – and their eyes locked in opposition.

"Get out of my way," she demanded.

"Who's Camille, Olivia?" The question oozed so softly from his lips and slammed against Olivia's skull.

She broke eye contact with him. Her breathing quickened as a prickly sensation stabbed her in the spine and spread throughout her body, so she could barely stand.

"I asked you a question," his voice soft as silk.

She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. She stuck out her chin and eyed him defiantly.

"My telephone conversation was personal _not_ professional, so mind your own damn business, and get back to your pregnant wife, you know, the one you don't have sex with."

"I want to talk about Mellie and explain. But first, answer my question: who's Camille?"

What did he hear? Why was he being so insistent? Could she continue with her game face and outsmart him?

"Olivia." His deep baritone voice rumbled, and echoed in the dark, as though the entire room demanded an answer.

"I told you it's my business. You shouldn't be here and I need to go."

Olivia shifted her bag over her shoulder and charged at Fitz, but he puffed out his chest and grew in stature, easily blocking her path.

"Excuse me," she repeated.

She attempted to side step him but he moved in time like a shadow.

"_Move! Now!_" she barked at the top of her voice. Unperturbed by her angry demand, Fitz got right up in Olivia's face.

"_Answer the question. Who is she_?" he yelled back fiercely.

Olivia's whole body convulsed and she stumbled falling clumsily against the wall. Her eyes widened in terror when she noticed his eyes had switched from sparkling deep-sea blue to narrow steel-grey slits. She knew that look. He meant business. He wasn't going to let her go without an answer.

Olivia took a moment to clear her throat and took a quivering breath.

"Camille... is my daughter," she barely whispered.

"So I did heard right?" he hissed icily.

She shifted her head to look towards the open door, dreaming about running through the door and never stopping, but instead she confirmed with a brief nod.

"Yes, you heard right."

Fitz recoiled from her - like she'd just admitted to contracting some contagious disease - and stared at Olivia in wide eyed disbelief. He started pacing quickly up and down, up and down, running his hands over his face and through his hair. He didn't know what to do with himself his mind and body were all over the place, trying to process what he'd heard during the last ten or so minutes. He stopped dead opposite Olivia. He rammed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. His metallic eyes staring incredulously into her calm expression, desperate to make sense of her crazy confession; waiting for the moment when she would laugh and tell him it was one big joke. Instead, he watched Olivia repeatedly swallowing and trying to slow down her breathing. Suddenly he rolled back his head and laughed harshly.

"_The Olivia Pope has a daughter!_"

Olivia dropped her bag and frantically ran to the close door. She rushed over Fitz attempting to grab his arm, but shrugged her off like a pesky fly.

"You have to lower your voice," she warned him.

"Who knows about this? How do I not know about this?"

"Because. It. Is. My. Business."

"Where is she, this daughter of yours?" he spat out.

She pouted and shrugged her shoulders.

"Does she live with her father? Is that who you were talking to on the phone?"

"I told you, this is my business, drop it."

"You've just told me you have a child, and you want me you drop it?"

"Fitz -"

"This is fucking unbelievable," he said, shaking his head, since this earth shattering news wasn't quite sinking in. "I've been in love with you for the past four years, and you never thought to tell me you had a child… all that time we've spent together."

"You mean you all those times you had me over The Oval Office table, the odd night in hotel rooms or Camp David. Sorry, I forgot, on some of those occasions you showed up with Mellie. Are those the intimate times you're referring to?" she replied hotly.

"You're trying to make us sound sordid to suit your own ends."

"We are sordid. This conversation - in the dark - proves that."

"How old is she?"

Olivia immediately looked away from him and folded her arms across her chest in the vain attempt to stop him hearing her thunderous heartbeats.

He took a sharp breath, and his face grew pale. He shuddered as he felt a throbbing ache in his gut kick-in, suspecting there was something closer to home Olivia wasn't telling him. "I heard you say 'eight' and 'my big girl' I'm not an idiot! She must've been born in ninety-nine," growled Fitz, as his words connected to the sickly sensation actively churning around in his stomach.

"Listen to me -" she began anxiously, trying to cut him off, but he continued like he hadn't heard her.

"And we met in January, ninety-nine."

"I know when we met Fitz, and if you remember, I was engaged Edison."

"You were having problems with him."

"So what, haven't you just conceived in a so-called loveless marriage?"

Fitz tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.

"Olivia, are you telling me, Edison, Senator Davies, is the father?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he knows?"

"No, when we broke up that was pretty much it. I didn't see him for years, and since moving to DC, we've seen each other a handful of times."

"So he doesn't know he has a child with you?"

"No."

"Bit cruel," he commented. Olivia cast her eyes down to the floor. "But also interesting," continued Fitz. "Olivia, Mellie happens to sit on The Children's Literacy Committee with India Davies," he said, carefully watching Olivia's head shoot up and stare at him with panic-filled eyes. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down so hard, she winced.

"No," said Fitz calmly. "I didn't think you knew that. You must be slipping, because you should know the old adage about 'keeping your enemies closer'. India confided in Mellie, and told her, she and Senator Davies are undergoing fertility treatment. She also let slip, the problem was down to her husband's low sperm count."

Fitz took a deliberate step closer to her. "So Olivia, you want to try telling me who the father is again?"

Olivia breath seized up! - trapped in the back of her throat - she took several gulps desperately trying to suck in a hint of oxygen. Her expressive eyes were darting left to right; up and down; everywhere and anywhere except at him.

"A-a l-low sperm count doesn't mean -" she stuttered and stammered.

Fitz's blazing eyes watched Olivia's reaction in sheer horror.

"_You're lying!_" he roared in pure disgust.

He grabbed her arms grinding his fingers into her bones. She stifled a yelp and pulled away from him to break free, but stumbled. He dragged her up and shoved her against the wall. His towering physique engulfed her tiny frame in a red mist inferno, and her body shriveled up like scorched paper.

"Did you give birth to my daughter?" he snarled.

"Stop it! You're hurting me," she cried out, twisting wildly against his painful grip. With her small fists, she punched and pushed at his rock hard chest to no avail. His big hands unrelentingly squeezing harder till his fingertips touched his thumb.

"_Is Camille my daughter?_"

"You have a daughter, she's called _Karen_."

"_Don't play semantics with me Olivia_," he blasted at her, causing her to squirm and shrink further away from him. "**_I want to hear you say it. TELL ME!_**"

She went limp in his arms. His raging fury had smashed through her last resistance. She let out a breathless cry and stopped fighting him, and crumbled, dropping her head way down low.

Fitz loosened his hold. His was chest heaving, he looked up to the heavens, trying to steady his quick sharp breaths, still clinging to Olivia. He gradually lowered his head till their foreheads almost touched.

"Olivia," he whispered hoarsely against her skin, and she trembled. "Please Livvie... is she mine? Is Camille our baby?"

Looking up though her lashes - she froze. The thought of meeting stone-cold granite grey eyes filled with accusation and betrayal rocked her to her core. She knew if she dared look into his eyes - in her heart - he'd be lost to her forever.

"Look at me."

"I-I can't," she stuttered, shaking her bowed head.

"Look. At. Me."

"Fitz... Camille... sh-she's our baby, I'm -"

Olivia's breath caught in her throat when she heard a low howling groan slowly rising from the pit of Fitz's stomach... and a torturous moan escaped from his shaking lips. He sounded like a blooded animal, crying out for the final bullet.

Fitz spun round on his heels and he shoved fists into his pockets. He took a long deep inhale and his body rose and back stiffened into an iceberg wall. The icy blast Olivia caught from him caused her to shiver, and she wrapped her arms around her upper body to stop her chills.

"I've gone from a father-of-two to a father-of-four in one night." His voice was distance and cold. Every syllable that left his lips screamed of the depth of his anguish. His pain stabbed at Olivia's heart, leaving her increasingly breathless and broken inside.

"I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you, but after a while, I didn't know how…" she choked out hoarsely, through her tears.

"I don't know who you are."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I thought you loved me?"

"You know I love you, but I had to protect my daughter."

He spun back around and slammed the palm of his hand against his chest.

"Protect her from me, her own father? Are you insane? You know how much I worship my children. You lay next to me when I poured my heart out to you about how much it broke me when Mellie insisted we send Karen and Gerry to boarding school. You pretended to care, and yet at the same time, you were keeping my Camille from me."

"You were a married man with two young children. You were running to become state governor, with one eye on the White House. Exactly how would Camille have featured in your life?"

"So you think your way is preferable to me never knowing my own child?"

"You have to understand -"

"No, I don't. I don't have to understand a damn thing. You had no right to keep something this important from me. You should have told me. She's my child too! You don't own her; she's not your property. She has every right to know me, her father. We found a way to be together, I would've found a way to be with my daughter."

"You think we're together? You and I plotting with Tom to sneak a visit in here or there - is that what you want for your daughter? Be honest Fitz, would you've been around to celebrate birthdays, Christmases with Camille? How many school recitals or soccer games would you attend? Can she call you up anytime to tell you about her day? You'd end up making promises to her you know you'd never be able to keep, and she'd get the call saying how sorry you are, but you love her. All you can offer Camille is stolen moments. No Fitz she doesn't deserve that."

"Nothing you can say will alter the fact you lied to me. _Every day for four years you've been_ _lying to me_," he erupted.

"_And you've been sleeping with Mellie. You broke our commitment to each other - you lied!_" she screamed back at him, rubbing her aching arms.

"What happened between me and Mellie was a one-time thing, after our row in the elevator, when you pushed me away," he muttered under his breath.

"Because you were drunk and being an asshole," she reminded him.

"Agreed."

"And like some petulant brat, who doesn't get his own way, you go and screw Mellie - how mature!"

"I was pissed with you, I wanted to make you jealous," he said, momentarily coming out of his own angry to appear remorseful.

"You came to me the next day and promised me nothing happened, and like a prize chump I believed you."

"Olivia, you saw the state I was in… we kissed… I seriously don't remember anything happening after that. I thought I'd passed out. It was a stupid mistake."

"Stop trying to negate your actions. You had sex. Mellie's pregnant. End of conversation."

Silence broke out between them as the word 'end' hung in the air under a different interpretation.

"We have a child together," said Fitz softly.

"Mellie's pregnancy changes everything."

"But it doesn't change the fact there's a little girl out there who I'm a father to. I screwed up with Mellie, I know, I'm sorry... but what you did, what you've done... there's no comparison."

"That's fine, I put my hands up, I'm guilty as charged. I'm a bitch, I'm the evil one, and one of Satan's minions. So let me go, because I can't do this with you anymore."

"You think I'm going to let you walk away with my child? You know me – that's not going to happen."

"What are you going to do? Announce that as well as having America's Baby you've already fathered America's Black Bastard?"

Fitz was about to protest but Olivia raised her hand to him.

"Because that's the harsh reality of what you will face if it ever comes out that you've been having an affair and fathered a child with your black mistress. You can play the wide-eyed innocent all you like, but this isn't _Sesame Street_ where the 'rainbow colored people' are holding hands, and singing songs of peace with Elmo. You can bet on Pennsylvania Avenue they'll be singing a different kind of song, about your impending impeachment. Your political career would be shot down. Over. Just. Like. That." she said, clicking her fingers. "Then there's the public humiliation that would follow and never stop. And I won't allow Camille to be exposed to that type of abuse because you think everyone will be on board with your United Colors of Benetton Family."

"So what are you telling me Olivia, you're going to allow a bunch of ignorant people stop me from meeting my own flesh and blood?"

"You're The Leader of the Free World, you can't be a father to my daughter," she said evenly.

"You think you can micro-manage my life, but you don't fix me Olivia, and you won't stop me from seeing my daughter," he warned her.

"I've been doing it for eight years, so I think I can."

Fitz closed two fingers together and began rubbing his eye and eyebrow in a circular continuous motion. Olivia eyes diverted away from the habit she'd seen Camille perform so many times.

"She's a part of me how could you not want me to know her?"

"We had a one-night stand; I got pregnant. Do you expect me to call you and announce I'm carrying your baby? Would you've given up on your marriage, your political ambitions to be with a woman you'd met for a few hours one night?"

"We didn't have a one-night stand - we connected. You could've gotten in touch with me. From the moment you walked back into my life, I told you, I'd never been able to get you out of my head. Over the last four years, I've been telling you, I'd happily be a one-term President. I'd give this all up to be with you, and I would have, especially if I'd known about Camille."

A pulse beat like rock in Olivia's throat when he said her name.

"I would've loved her," finished Fitz, clearing his throat.

"If that night meant so much to you, why didn't you try to get in touch with me? You have this fantasy in your head about running away with me, but that's all I am 'a fantasy' when the going gets tough in your marriage, or Cyrus is breathing down your neck like a dragon. Imagine if I had told you about Camille and we got together, how long would it be before you started to resent me and my daughter for destroying your marriage, and carefully laid out career path? Not to mention how you'd be exiled from your country club lifestyle. I did what I thought was best for everyone."

"Does she know about me?"

Olivia paused.

"You haven't told her about me?" he asked incredulously.

"She knows you're her father, the President, and your job is looking after this country. She's okay with that – she's well cared for and loved."

"How could any child be okay with that sort of explanation? You are so in the wrong here."

"I'm doing the right thing. I'm trying to save you."

"You're trying to save yourself," he retorted harshly. "I don't understand all this time and not one word. This is possible the cruelest thing anyone's ever done to me. You've outdone Big Jerry and Mellie in one move. What I can't understand is why you agreed to work for me."

"Because you'd lost Iowa, and losing New Hampshire was next on the cards. Cyrus was under pressure and came to me for my expertise. I kept turning him down, but he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Bullshit! That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

"I-I thought I could help you. You were in trouble and I am a fixer-"

"And no doubt working on a US Presidential Election campaign would do wonders for your profile," he added bitterly.

"Don't flatter yourself, I was successful before I joined your campaign."

"But it didn't hurt your portfolio did it?"

"Cyrus offered me a short-term contract. I didn't think I'd end up working for you in the White House. I foolishly thought I could handle seeing you again…"

"No, you thought you could prostitute yourself out to me," he shot back nastily. "Why you didn't have a termination? Or did you bank on having a future President's lovechild, and an eye-watering book deal later on down the road - huh? Is that the bigger paycheck you were looking forward to, after I left the White House?"

Olivia swiftly raised her hand and with all the force she could muster she went for him, the palm of her hand came crashing down hard against his cheek, causing his head to snap round and he staggered back. Before he had a chance to recover, she slapped him again. The second slap was twice as hard. Olivia's hand throbbed like she'd been stung by a thousand bees. She didn't care. The harsh red imprint she imagined glowing from his cheek like a red traffic light was satisfaction enough.

The second blow was unexpected. It rocked him. It got him crazier. Fitz came hurtling towards Olivia, his face a mass of contorted rage and slammed his fist into the wall beside her.

"You think you've got the right to hit me? Twice!" he raged at her, shaking violently.

Olivia didn't blink. She didn't move. She simply stared at him.

"It's bad enough your wife calling me a whore, and I have to stand there and take it - I'm not taking it from you. I never sold out to you for any kind of gain, other than wanting you to love me. You ask why I didn't terminate my baby. I won't lie, I thought about it. It would've been the sensible option. But I kept remembering Cyrus' party, and seeing you staring down at me and everything, every thought, idea, belief I had, vanished, popped, straight out of my head. For the first time in my life my mind went blank... because I didn't have to think... because everything I needed to know was staring at me... I'd found you. When I discovered I was pregnant with Camille I thought it was a miracle and I'd been allowed to keep a part of you... and if I never saw you again... I'd still have you... I-I was selfish, I'm sorry... I couldn't say goodbye."

"I'm sorry, I lost it, I'm sorry, I would never, you know," he replied, retracting his swollen bloody hand.

"I know."

Their short breaths fought for dominance as the only conversation between them. They were both spent. The power of betrayal so tangent and toxic crackled through the air.

"Is that what you honestly think you of me?" asked Olivia, when she could no longer handle the brooding silence.

"Did you honestly not want me to find out?"

Olivia became overwhelmed by guilt – silently cursing her inability to not get mad and lose it with him. Her eyes softened. She didn't want to hurt him physically or emotionally. She loved him even though they were breaking each other's heart on what should be an unforgettable night of celebration. Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head.

"I didn't want her to have a piece of you, Fitz. I know, firsthand, what it feels like being second, third, fourth and fifth to everything in your life…it would be too heartbreaking for my little girl."

"What's she like?"

"She's beautiful," she gulped softly. "She's full of beans, funny, bright as a button, willful… a really special little girl."

"She sounds perfect."

"She is to me."

"I have to meet my daughter Olivia. She needs to know who I am."

"Fitz -"

Loud footsteps approaching the office stopped Olivia in her tracks, and seconds later, a brief tap on the glass door.

Olivia dipped her head and quickly dried her eyes.

Fitz cleared his throat, and straightened his shirt and jacket.

Olivia smoothed down her hair and pulling up from the neck she put on her best professional face.

Fitz slowly opened the door and they both relaxed seeing loyal secret service agent, Tom.

"I'm sorry Sir, Ms Pope; I've been told the First Lady is asking for you."

Fitz thanked Tom and told him he'd be out shortly.

He waited until the agent was a safe distance away and sighing wearily, he returned his attention back to Olivia. She was still looking at Tom's disappearing figure.

"I've got to go… I take it you're not flying back to DC with the rest of us?"

Olivia too sighed and shook her head.

"I've booked my own flight back home."

"So where do we go to from here? Because this isn't something I'm going to forget about on your say so, Olivia, you're not going to stop me from seeing my own child," he told her firmly.

"Your wife may've something to say about that."

"What?"

Olivia looked at Fitz and shook her head.

"I'm saying: you've won your second term, go finish the job."

"Olivia -"

"The First Lady needs you."

"My daughter needs me."

"Your daughter?" she scoffed. "Let me ask you one question. If there's a nuclear or terrorist threat on this country, will your daughter be invited into The Bunker? Will Camille be afforded the same level of protection as Karen and Gerry?"

"Olivia, you -"

"Answer my question: is Camille invited into The Bunker with you: yes or no?"

"That's not fair."

"No it's not, and neither is having a father who can only see you in the dark."

"You never gave me a chance."

Silence.

"Do you have a picture I could see?"

Silence.

"Olivia?"

She bent down to retrieve her bag and when she returned to standing, stretched out her hand to him. It wasn't a picture but a 'friendship' bracelet Camille had made for Olivia. Fitz extended his good hand and readily accepted his first gift from his daughter. He gently rubbed the soft material between his thumb and fingers, and closed his eyes trying to imagine what she looked like. He envisioned caramel skin, curly hair, eyes like her mother's and an infectious smile. The images became blurry and faded away and Fitz was lost in his grief for the child Olivia chose to keep from him. He slipped the bracelet into his pocket and squeezed savoring his first physical connection to Camille.

Without another word or look, Fitz stepped out the door and left as silently as he'd arrived.

Olivia observed him walking to his waiting car. He never looked back, just got climbed into the expensive vehicle and drove away.

Pulling out her cell phone, Olivia dialed up a familiar number, and in a matter of seconds she heard the voice she prayed would answer.

"Huck, he knows. Hide my baby."

* * *

**AN:****_ The showdown between Olivia and Fitz reveals: the secrets, lies and heartache that led to Olivia's disappearance with Camille. Was she right or wrong to keep Camille from him bearing in mind, his marital status and political aspirations? And what about Fitz's abusive/toxic behavior towards Olivia in the elevator, that ended with him breaking their 'Olitz vows' and him taking revenge by sleeping with Mellie? Is it six of one and half dozen of the other? Next update maybe a week or two away? A few of you already know why – thanks for the lovely sentiments! _**

**_Happy Reading Gladiators! _**


End file.
